


Half Hearted

by CooperS33



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguements, Character Study, Coming Out, Confessions, Endgame Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, F/F, Illness, Insecurities, Swan Queen Week, Swan Queen Week Summer 2016, Swan Queen fanfiction, Travel, emma and regina, physical intimacy, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:24:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7786660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CooperS33/pseuds/CooperS33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma feels.  Nothing.  Kinda literally actually.  That is until the Mayor comes along ...  Geez Louise I suck at summaries!!!  So if any of you can think of a better one after you've read this, I will gladly put it up in place of the drivel currently taking up the summary space ... I'll even write you a one shot as a sort of thank you!!!</p><p>Anyway this will be multi-chapter - quite possibly 3 or 4 and no worries, it is 95% complete and ready for posting!!! So it won't take a month between chapter postings like my other story lol  This one has come to a conclusion, but right now I'm tightening up the final chapter!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmm yep. I went ahead and did it. I actually participated in a Swan Queen Week thingie!! Gods it's so nerve wracking TBH and I'm not sure I will EVER do it again lol. For better or for worse, here it is: One big story, eight wonderful prompts. Hope y'all enjoy!!
> 
> * * *

After walking the whole fifteen minutes it took to get from the lake to the edge of town, there was a back entrance.

If you walked down behind all of the buildings on North Street, past the dumpsters filled with last weeks’ special and too many half-filled take out containers garbage bags and moist cardboard boxes, where there were cats mumbling about scraps in the distance and dimly lit rear facades in which one might imagine a homicide taking place (or at the _very_ least some semblance of bodily harm and or fluids), there was a set of stairs leading up about five steps.

Before arriving at North Street proper though, it was a twenty-eight-minute drive on a two lane unlit road.

Just over the pylon orange colored town line.

Glancing up at the _‘Welcome to Storybrooke’_ sign backwards in the rear view mirror of the Bug, Emma looked at the black stick-on LED clock propped up on the dash with its tiny compass floating around in water next to it that she’d purchased in Boston a few lifetimes ago and noted the time.

9:03

Fifteen minutes later when she was walking up those five stairs behind North Street with the blinking florescent light above, she could slip in unnoticed and down a long thick humid hallway, past the restrooms that gave off the fake rose scent of watery hand soap that seemingly seeped through the too heavy swinging bare wooden doors.  Sauntering past the circa 1983 payphone, she slipped into the last stool at the horseshoe shaped bar that had seen better days.

She thrummed her fingers against the over lacquered scarred surface, squeezed her eyelids tight and took a deep breath.

After the left field awkwardness of _Henry’s at a sleep over this weekend?_ And _Yes Miss Swan, our son does have some semblance of a life. He is thirteen after all,_ she jumped in the Bug after lunch on Friday, packed an overnight duffle bag and took off down a familiar road.  She had driven around aimlessly for hours, marinating in the absolute burden of _just_ existing and _barely_ breathing.  While simmering somewhere between helpless and hopeless and fake _but not really fake_ outrage for all the _not showing up_ she’s done she shouldn’t have expected any less than this.  Cause really? When is the last time she had to ask permission to see him? And how long has he been staying overnight at homes other than hers and her parents and Regina’s and why wasn’t she aware of this?? So, Emma found herself here, sitting at the horseshoe shaped bar that smelled like whiskey and beer and stale cigarettes and a whole lot of not Storybrooke.  

She was glad for the now regular reprieve.

She supposed she shouldn’t be at all surprised but found herself rankled by the exchange none the less.  After all, as his brunette mother stated, he was thirteen.   _Thirteen and a half, Ma. Practically fourteen_.  And Emma gave him a lopsided smile that morning, _practically isn’t actually Henry, but I’ll give it to you this time_ , over breakfast at Granny’s and took a deep breath, thinking the better of arguing with his logic because seriously, how many half ages would she have left to hear him crow about without embarrassment? She missed the first ten and just figured she’d try to enjoy whatever was left at the bottom of the box.

Crumbs.

And she wondered when her life was going to stop feeling like every place other than first or new or a damn _choice_. She’d felt so _last_ and half-full and shrouded in hand me downs and holes in shirts and late for breakfast and having only crumbs left over from the other fosters for god sake. Never new and shiny and _all hers_ and not even Henry was even really hers, was he? No, she had to share him too. She had herself an authentic well-worn and already _parented,_ hand me down kid.

The tavern she found herself in now was a lucky find in the way that you spot a penny face up instead of face down.  Money was money but still just a penny.  And a bar was a bar all the same.  And which way was lucky anyway? Heads up? Heads down?  Emma shook her own head slightly as if trying to rid the nonlinear train of thought she found herself on now. Such a long string of worn out and wasted thoughts.  Words like true love and savior and enchanted and magic all swirled in her head, constantly reminding her of duty and honor and the right thing and _good always beats evil, mom_ and happy endings.  “Everyone but me,” She mumbled as she raised her eyes slightly motioning to the bartender and found a coaster and double pour of whiskey on the rocks placed in front of her.

“Here again, love?” The lithe voice questioned and a smile rose into striking grey eyes as a greeting to the blonde.

Emma’s smile didn’t quite reach her own eyes and she nodded to the small black haired girl grinning back at her. “Yeah, I guess so.” She shrugged and turned to the left slightly while bringing the drink to her lips, in no way wanting company or conversation.

The girl (no more than her mid-twenties _if that_ from what Emma garnered through their previous encounters) Kinzi, waltzed back to the other end of the bar from which she’d arrived and Emma exhaled slightly at the welcomed return to solitude.

She’d gone on a drive one Sunday afternoon about a month or so ago, completely devoid of plans for once and instead of taking a right onto the highway towards the worn tan one floor building announcing in bold red _‘Chantey’s Lobster House’_ over the roof, she’d taken a left over a rickety wooden bridge and arrived here two minutes later and very much out of the blue, the little town appeared before her.

The town wasn’t much to look at. Much in the way that there was no town at all and she’d wondered briefly how these people survived here.  The whole area was comprised of about ten blocks in all directions with North Street cutting straight down the middle.  A general store, hardware store, post office and grocer lined the four block main road along with an iced cream parlor, a camping supply store, florist and a bait shop on the other side.  Above all of them were tiny little apartments.  You could get from one end of town to the other in no more than a five-minute walk, Emma had gathered on her first drive-thru.  Beyond all of those blocks were small cabins strewn haphazardly amongst the thick forest if you drove down a gravel lined one lane road toward the lake.  All the cabins faced out toward the large body of water and some had been occupied upon her first visit.

She’d thought briefly of _merry men_ and grimaced as if tasting something foul at the back of her throat, then lifted the glass of whiskey to her lips effectively draining it.

After a few moments, she turned back to the bar and stretched her hands out before her.  Giving them a good squeeze closed then flex open, she looked up again as Kinzi seemingly floated into view with another full tumbler of sticky amber liquid.

“Thanks,” Emma half grinned.  The previous glass had done its job with relaxing her demeanor and raised her mood ever so slightly. “Large crowd you have in here tonight, huh?”

“Yeah, Em.” The dark haired bartender nodded. “Say, you’ve never been in here on a Friday night, have you?  What gives?”

“My son is at a sleepover. Or whatever.” She shrugged feigning hurt. “It’s just as well. I haven’t been out on the town in,” Emma paused and shook her head with a smirk, “Well, since I got here from Boston actually. Which, if you think about it, is kind of a sad statement, don’t you think?”  She lifted the glass and took a large pull from it. “This is the very first time I’m treating myself to a Friday night out.” Emma shrugged as she placed the half empty tumbler back on the coaster.  “You know, doing me for a change.” She nodded and smiled.

Kinzi’s grin widened as she nodded, and then looked up at the blonde through her eyelashes. “Well, I don’t know if you’d call this place ‘out on the town’ so much,” She gestured around the dark bar now filled with other bodies pressed against each other, milling about as the din of conversation floated in the air. “And as far as treating yourself,” Kinzi winked and leaned in, her right hand settling against the top of Emma’s. “You’re much too beautiful to be sitting here all alone on a Friday night. Instead of you doing you,” She batted her eyelashes a few times and traced a slow light circle on Emma’s hand. “You should find someone who will do you _for_ you.”

“You’re evil.” Emma grinned at the girl’s obvious entendre and effectively drained her drink. “But I think I have quite enough of that in my life at the moment.” Emma pulled her hand away and used it to slide the now empty glass toward the grey eyed bartender while smirking.

“People doing you?” Kinzi asked deflated and quirked a questioning eyebrow toward the blonde as she refilled her glass.

“ _Evil_.” Emma stated wryly and tossed a few bills on the bar. “I’m gonna go flip through the jukebox, Kinz.  Be back in a bit.” Emma grabbed her drink and sauntered toward the ancient music player in the corner, not waiting for a reply.


	2. Chapter 2

Heels clicked, clicked, clicked across cold pavement in the still night air. No other sound could be heard except for crickets and the buzzing of the two street lights in the one horse town Regina Mills found herself in.  Walking past a store front touting _‘live bait’_ she shivered a bit and pulled her scarf up over her nose at the sudden stench. _Smells like; pirate_ , she thought to herself disgustedly and increased her pace to get upwind of the acridness that suddenly surrounded her.

_This was a ridiculous idea_ , she thought to herself. _Ridiculous and stupid and foolish_ and she had a feeling niggling deep within her chest that somehow she may be getting in way over her head in matters to do with anything related to Emma Swan _._

She wasn’t exactly sure how it was that Snow talked her into this half-baked hair brained idea.  Had she been able to think quicker on her feet she would have pushed for Charming to go himself again but no, damn Snow and her ability to pull out the big guns.

Henry.

*****

_A week previous. . ._

“But Regina, think about it,” Mary Margaret blinked at her and gave a thin smile. “How would you feel if one of your parents followed you out of town and you caught them doing so?” She tilted her head and looked imploringly at her with sad eyes.

The Mayor smiled sourly, “So your brilliant solution is to have _me_ follow her?” Regina asked in annoyance, “Because that’s the most logical next step. Of course!” She shook her head.

“Regina,” David cut in. “It’s too obvious if one of us follows her.” He slid into the seat next to his wife at their kitchen table.  “She knows my truck.  She knows I haven’t had time to get it to the mechanic recently, and I ...” He shrugged, at a loss.

Mary Margaret coughed and gave her husband the side-eye.

“What?” Regina quirked her eyebrows at both of them then, “You were caught.  Weren’t you?” She rolled her eyes at both of them.   _Idiots._

“Well, I did try to follow her once a few weeks back.  She caught sight of me about a mile before the town line.”  He sighed deeply.  “I made the excuse that I had left my cell phone in her car and was trying to catch up with her to get it.

And before you even ask, yes, I did try to talk to her about her distance.  Several times.” He slid his arm across the back of the chair his pixie haired wife sat in. “Snow and I both did.  She says she needs time, wants to be alone, needs to think, needs to figure things out.  She even mentioned getting her own place a few days ago. . .It feels like she’s running from something, Regina.  The town’s track record as of late hasn’t been that of a sleepy hamlet, more like a war zone.  For our own selfish reasons, we want our daughter here, but also. . .”  He cut himself off.  He felt guilty even hinting at the fact that they, the whole town, needed and depended on Emma.  Anyway you cut it, she was their daughter but also the Savior, and being the Savior meant that you had to be around to do the saving.  

The brunette’s eyebrows knitted. “And her superpower, what? Short circuited?”

He shrugged. “As far as _stretching the truth_ about following her, she didn’t seem suspicious.  I was able to slide my cell out of my top pocket while I was bent over in the back seat _looking_ for it.”

The former evil queen rolled her eyes. “Smooth, Charming.” She shook her head in annoyance.  One should never send a mere peasant to do the job of a royal.   _Really._

The Regal Mayor quirked an eyebrow up at her former step-daughter. “Why exactly is it that I am to follow your grown daughter out of town as if she were disobeying curfew like a teen age miscreant? After all, she’s made it clear to both of you she wishes to be left alone.” Regina queried and took a sip of coffee out of the cup Snow had given her upon arrival. She wasn’t exactly keen on going on some mission for the Charmings, especially where Emma Swan was concerned.  As much as things had changed, as much as they all acknowledged their familial obligation in the quite recent past to each other, the brown eyed brunette was wary. If at all honest with herself, Regina knew that any remaining fractures in hers and Emma’s relationship were there because of her.  Now wasn’t the time to open up fresh wounds before they had a chance to heal a bit.  It could all end in _something_ she wasn’t quite ready to deal with.  Not at all.

“For Henry.” Snow chirped, “We just,” She wrung her hands a bit and looked to her husband for support. “We just worry about her, Regina.  She hasn’t been herself.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially as if someone else might hear her in the tiny apartment. “She’s been sneaking out at night. For quite some time we think.”

“And what does that have to do with our son?” The Mayor narrowed her eyes and whispered back almost exasperated at this point.

“He’s noticed.” Charming took over the train of thought. “We had a talk yesterday after he came back from riding lessons.  We know he loves us, Regina, we’re his family, but Henry, he’s here because she is, and we’re ok with that. We know that no matter where Emma goes, Henry would go after her, follow her to the ends of the earth.  After all, he fought so hard for her to be in his life.”

Regina bristled and narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought we were past all of this nonsense.”  She rolled her eyes at even the hint of bringing up past misdeeds.

“What I mean is,” David shook his head and sighed. “Look. You all fought so hard for _each other_.” He smiled his best charming smile, “Emma fought for you, supported you, had your back on many decisions you made that even we were wary of.” He gave an apologetic smile, “And now things have been good, really good as a matter of fact and Snow and I would hate to see the balance tip again. Out of _all_ our favor.”

“Emma hasn’t been here more often than not when he wakes up Saturday morning, and she’s missed more breakfast dates with him than she’s shown up to.” Mary Margaret shook her head tisking and took a sip of her own cup. “He’s afraid to ask her about it but this morning he told us that since she obviously has other things to do that he’d rather schedule different activities to do with us.  I see him in school and he stops by the station for lunch with David.  We will continue to have dinner with him every Wednesday night when he gets out of his tutoring program, but Emma. . .”

“Regina, something is going on with our daughter.” David sighed, “And I’m afraid she’s just not interested in talking to us.  Whatever it is that’s going on . . .We were just hoping as Henry’s co-parent, as her _friend_ , you would possibly have better luck.  Maybe even be able to help her with whatever this is.”

“There’s no denying that you two understand each other.” Snow took the now empty cups and placed them in the sink.  She walked around the table and sat down next to the mayor, “You get each other, and I’m glad for that. Besides us and Henry? It seems like she has no one else to confide in.  Which leaves,” She gave Regina’s hand a squeeze.

“Me.”  Regina nodded at the new information.  Truthfully, she had noticed the Saviors absence though chalked it up to her actually doing her job.  For how long had she been sneaking out of her home going god knows where with god knows who and, “The pirate?” She looked to Snow questioningly.

Mary Margaret shook her head no. “I haven’t seen them together at all. I haven’t seen him in town and the Jolly Roger has been gone for a month now.”  She narrowed her eyes at the brunette. “Wait.  How did you not know this?”

Regina glared and bristled at the almost accusation. “It’s not like I take a personal interest in what the one handed wonder does.” She shifted in her seat. “As for the Emma, well, she no longer comes to the door when she drops Henry off.  He is old enough to walk fifty feet up the walkway, Snow.”

Charming looked at her, surprised. “You share a son Regina. You don’t talk to her about what goes on in his life? At school? Anything?”

“No, I leave that to Henry, dear. He’ll be fourteen soon.  He should know by now how to speak to adults and hold an intelligent conversation. After all, I was the one who raised him.” She defended. “We do have our working lunches every Friday but that is reserved mainly for town business and getting your daughter to finish up her paperwork and turn in requests on time.  Besides, the arrangement we have in place has worked out well for both of us for quite some time.” She smiled as she gathered her purse and jacket. “There are no longer custody issues or arguments over Henry, who he stays with and where he goes.  I thought you both of all people would be pleased.”  She turned around before making her exit. “However, I will look into this, for Henry.”

_For Henry_ had in effect become everyone’s mantra in the sleepy little fairytale town. Everything was done _for Henry’s sake_ , for his good, his well-being and after coming back from Neverland, that mantra had become their battle cry.

Regina could easily drop off a cup of hot coffee from Granny’s at the Sheriff’s desk on a late Wednesday afternoon, _For Henry_ , so that Emma would be wide awake when meeting him later on for dinner with the Charmings.  She could also chalk up their Friday working lunches _For Henry_ , as she would always call it a half day afterward so that Emma would be available to meet him at the bus stop herself to take him back to the apartment she shared with her parents for the weekend.

Giving Emma’s Bug an official 'Reserved for Sheriff' labeled parking space next to the Mayor’s was also _For Henry_ , as he would shuffle himself between both households and would need one thing or another out of both their cars.  Yes, it was all for, “Oh, who am I kidding?” The Mayor chastised and rolled her eyes at herself, at her own excuses for doing anything remotely _favorable_ for Emma Swan as she approached her car noting the absence _again_ of the yellow atrocity from in front of Snow and David’s second floor apartment.

On the short drive home, Regina couldn’t help but re-run the conversation with the Charmings over in her head again.  Emma had been out most nights? Where the hell was she going? It’s not like Storybrooke had a whole lot to offer in entertainment or extracurricular activities.  There was The Rabbit Hole, Granny’s. . .

The brunette parked her car and let herself into her house.  She slipped off her heels and placed them on the mat by the doorway.  Removing her coat, she placed it in the hall closet and went upstairs to change.  Pausing by Henry’s door, she knocked.

“Come in.” The disembodied voice called out.

“Henry, darling.  How was your day?” She reached out and pushed the hair from his eyes, taking a seat on his bed.

He wrinkled his face and blinked at the affection, not even bothering to glance up at her, “You’re late.” He huffed. “I guess you spoke with Gramps?”

She nodded. “And Snow, yes.”  She sat and regarded him for a moment.  He was all elbows and knees sitting Indian style on his bed trying to flip through a comic book with interest but as he stole a glance at her before going back to the book before him, she knew he was waiting. She decided to dive right into what they were both thinking. “Why didn’t you come to me, Henry?”

“He shrugged non-noncommittally. “I don’t know.”  He looked up at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts before continuing, “I guess I just thought you wouldn’t care what was going on with Emma.” He looked at her pointedly now. “I mean, you kinda stopped caring after Robin left with his family.  Right? You still blame her.”

The Mayor sighed.  Her feigned and at least _public_ disinterest in the Savior had been noticed by their dark haired son and quite possibly, had given him the wrong impression.  Truthfully, she _was_ interested in what his blonde haired mother was up to.   _Annoyingly_ so.  “Henry, Miss Sw--, Emma and I have had a very, tenuous relationship in the past.”  She took his hand in hers, “Things these past few months have been so much better.  Don’t you agree?”

“You stopped paying attention.”  He pulled his hand away and ran it though his too long brown locks, much the mirror image of his other mother, “It seems like everyone did, except me.” He looked at her accusingly before getting up and moving to his book bag.  After rummaging through it for a few moments with scrunched up brows, he grinned tightly finding the folded up paper he’d been looking for. “Here.” He handed the item to his mother.

She unfolded it carefully and scanned the lines, “What is this, Henry?”

“That’s a list of when Emma has been leaving the house and coming back for the past month.  Well, when I’m spending the night that is,” He flopped down next to her, “I don’t know what’s going on with her mom.  It’s like she doesn’t want to be around anymore.” He shrugged.

“Oh Henry,” She smiled sadly at him and looked down at the paper.  There before here were times and dates when Emma had left the house at night and come back in during the early hours of the morning, or sometimes not at all, the Mayor noted with interest. Suddenly Snow’s words trampled through her mind again, _Emma hasn’t been here more often than not when he wakes up Saturday morning, and she’s missed more breakfast dates with him than she’s shown up to,_ “I’m not quite sure what to say, darling.” She sighed and folded the paper again, “I suppose you’re right, and for that I must apologize.”  She took his hand again and wrapped it in both of her own. “Since Robin left,” She began.

He rolled his eyes. “That again?” He shook his head in disappointment. “How long are you going to make her pay for that, mom? How much longer does she have to be sorry?” He got up and began to pace a little in front of her.  One hand shoved in his pocket, the other scrubbing down his face.  Suddenly he stopped, looked at her and quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously.” He gave her an eye roll she would be proud of had it not been directed toward her.

“I’m not making her pay, Henry.” She scoffed. “What I was going to say was, since Robin left, Emma has been giving me space. The space I asked her for.” And it was true.  The blonde had backed off significantly after Regina sent the man and his family over the town line for a new life, a better life outside of Storybrooke to a land without magic and ice queens and frozen hearts. “What exactly are you asking me to do?”

“They’ve been gone for, like, _ever_ , mom.  I don’t know, can’t you just, be her friend?” He threw his hands up in the air and huffed. “Hook left a month ago! He and Tink jumped on his ship and just took off without telling anyone!” He stopped his pacing in the middle of the floor and shoved both hands in his pockets, shaking his head.

“Henry,” She got up and placed both hands on his shoulders, “When telling a story, it is of the utmost importance to start at the beginning,” She smiled and gave his shoulders a squeeze and, despite his tiny protest, she pulled him to her gently, “If you’re going to be an author someday, you cannot bury the lead.  If this is about the pirate and her broken heart. . .”

“Mooo-om.” He rolled his eyes at her “Really? It’s not about Killian.” Again he shook his head, “She’s,” He shrugged, “I think she’s leaving, mom.” He bent over now and pulled a newspaper out from under his bed.

Regina scrunched her eyebrows but then her eyes went wide with recognition.  She grabbed the offending paper from his hands as if doing so would erase the words she was sure he’d already read several times. “I thought I had gotten rid of every last copy of this. Henry, where did you get it?”

“Her room.” He looked pointedly at his brunette mother as if to say, _duh_.

“Henry, this was years ago.” She rolled up the Storybrooke Mirror newspaper with Emma Swan’s mugshot on the front cover.  The pages were worn and dog-eared.  Regina had seen to it that any trace of the paper was removed from the archives in the library. When she’d begun her road to redemption, her road to being a better mother to her son there was no better or more difficult place to start than with The Savior.  She’d simply poofed all the papers away without a second thought.  This was, apparently, her own personal copy, “This will be used to feed this evening’s fire I believe.”

Her son shook his head sadly, “Mom, you don’t get it.” He grabbed the paper and opened it up to a folded page, pointing to a column halfway down, “Here.”

The Mayor leaned over and her eyes began to scan the short paragraph next to her son’s finger. “Oh.” Came out in a small whisper, but he’d heard it all the same.

“Yeah, oh.” He pursed his lips and closed the page.  He took a few moments to gather his thoughts again then took his mothers’ hands in his own. “Two years, mom.” He swallowed audibly, the words not coming so easily now. “The longest Emma ever lived anywhere was two years and that was Tallahassee.  She’s been here almost three.” His eyes moistened considerably as he continued, “I mean it all fits now. It all makes sense! She’s working as the Sheriff, yes, but she’s never around after hours. Just the other day I found a paper from some other town with apartments circled.   _Apartments_ , mom.”

She put her hand on his arm and squeezed reassuringly, “Henry, her distance could have nothing to do with you. It could have nothing to do with Hook leaving, or she herself wanting to leave.” She frowned, rubbing his arm with her thumb gently then frowned at almost missing the most important part of what he’d said, “What paper, Henry? What town?”

“The Wells Something,” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“The Wells Examiner?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and the gears in her brain began to turn toward recognition of the name.  What on earth made Emma decide to look into apartments in that damned little hovel of a town? Her only tie to it being her appearance as a newborn all those years ago with Pinocchio at her side.

“What is it, mom?” He asked. “I know that look.  You know something!”

“I don’t know anything, Henry. I find her interest in that town curious, that’s all.  It’s about a half hour from here.” She sidestepped. “But you’re going to have to trust me to try and figure the rest out.  Okay? In the meantime, I’ll need you to see if you can get me that paper.” He nodded, somewhat satisfied that his mom was on board, his mom was on the case! And surely she could get a handle on why Emma was acting so strangely.

He looked practically eye level at her but suddenly in his expression, Henry was someone much younger than his thirteen years. If Regina squinted and turned her head at just the right angle she could see that five-year-old boy from so long ago.  She promised to replace his balloon at the Miner’s day festival when that hoodlum knocked into him and his hands let go of the string.  He watched with tears as it floated away toward the sun into the noontime sky. He now felt his other mother was suddenly floating away from him and he was trying to grab onto any strings he could in order to tether her to him. “Really? You’d do that?” He smiled at her now. “You’ll fix it? You’ll make her stay?”

“I can’t promise to make her stay, Henry.” She grinned and gave him a two-armed hug, glad for his trust in her to get to the bottom of it.  Truthfully and thankfully, the days of her son mistrusting her and her intentions were far gone and in the past, seemingly blown apart then rethreaded into a stronger relationship.  The beginnings of _that_ had Emma Swan written all over it too, Regina mused to herself as she comforted her son.  That woman was _infuriating_ with her butting in and helping and pushing and fixing. Sometimes. “We both know how stubborn she can be.  She doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do.” She kissed his temple lovingly, “Especially not the Mayor.”

“Yeah, godforbid she listens to her boss.”

She hugged him tighter, “I’ll talk to her, and perhaps see if I can be of any help.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Present Day_

It was the smell that bothered her the most.

Not the dim lights or the bodies that seemed to float into her orbit and linger, then bounce off some invisible shield, thinking better of getting too close.  No, it wasn’t the dingy _sticky_ dark wood bar or the duct tape covered barstools.  It wasn’t even the awful dusty plastic flowers that lined the fake flowerbox divider between the bar and the few scattered mismatched tables near the dilapidated jukebox. It was the _smell_.  It smelled like liquor and cheap cologne and it lingered in her nostrils as _despair_ and _hopelessness_ seeped into her skin.  It wreaked of a whole lot of giving up.  It lingered about her like nothing she’d ever thought she’d feel again.  It felt like a whole lot of giving up..  

_Something’s afoot_ , she thought to herself, _there’s something not quite right,_ but the former Evil Queen couldn’t put her finger on it and that was bothersome. She narrowed her eyes and scanned the crowd of people milling about.  She inhaled and then exhaled deeply, as if to rid her lungs of the _indecision_ and _desperateness_ permeating them.  If buildings had moods, Regina Mills could with incredible accuracy say that this bar felt _lost_.

_But there’s no magic here_ , she thought to herself as she continued to watch the patrons of the dingy establishment.  She sipped on her bottled water and with one hand under the bar she flicked her wrist and tried to light the dusty little tea light candle sitting in its dreadful rose shaped holder in the corner, _no magic and apparently no Emma_.  Regina’s shoulders slumped slightly.  She’d been in the bar over an hour, had two drinks (the first had been a glass of wine hoping surely that even a place like this couldn’t screw up something like that but the fermented rotten grapes sitting at the back of her throat was a testament to how very wrong she was) and zero luck in locating the blonde.  She was positive this is where Emma would appear after doing a little recon of her own the past week seeing as Henry was sleeping over at the Tillmans’ tonight.  He wanted to get a ridiculously early start to camping with Nick, Ava and their father Saturday into Sunday. One of the many activities over the past month that she was unable to discuss with Emma.

The savior had, for all intents and purposes, and much to Regina’s initial delight, been all business at their lunches.  All business and paperwork completed and T’s crossed and I’s dotted.  She scolded herself for what must have been the fifth time that evening.  Why hadn’t she seen it?  Such a drastic change in Emma should have been apparent and bothersome and loaded with all sorts of questions.  After all, they saw each other three or four times a day on town business sometimes but at the very least once a day as they walked in to pick up their individual coffees at Granny’s. No, this _was_ definitely on her and she was feeling almost sorry she had been so prickly with Snow and David.  Almost.

She’d acted like a lovesick cheerleader whose quarterback boyfriend had dumped her when Emma dragged Marian back through that portal.  Dragged her back and united her with her husband and her son who mourned the peasant woman his entire life. The brunette then retreated into routine and rote and paperwork and the Mayor-mask she slipped on every morning as she walked out the front door.

It was Emma that came to her first and always.  It had been Emma trying and pushing and _trust me_ and _they don’t know what it’s like to be rejected_.  It was Emma’s declaration of _unique_ and _special_ and _I was just looking for you to be my friend_ , that made Regina think and pause and truly give consideration to allowing the blonde Sheriff into parts of her world that had very little to do with their shared son.   After reuniting the person who should have been her true love with his long lost not so dead wife, then it was Regina’s push, _you thought we were friends?_ , and Emma’s pull of _I’m gonna find a way to fix this_ ; then the finality of _intentionally or not, Miss Swan, you ruined my life and there is no coming back from that_.

And they never did.

“Can I get you anything else, love?” The bartender practically sang to Regina as her grey eyes raked over the brunette’s form.

Scrunching her nose and shaking her head in the negative, Regina leaned in a bit smiling, “No thank you, dear.”  Reaching over and lightly stroking the girls’ fingers, she turned on her best smile and sultry eyes, “What you can do is tell me if you’ve seen someone, perhaps? You look like an observant girl and hopefully you can help me.  I’d consider it a _personal_ favor and I would owe you one in return.”

She reached into her pocket and produced a picture of Emma and Henry at the park about four months ago.  Henry was in motion with his head tilted back and his mouth was open in laughter. Emma was hunched over not far behind with her arms out in front of her, blonde hair under a ridiculous beany whipping behind her in the wind.  Her smile reached all the way up to her eyes as she gave chase to her son down by the lake.  It was two days after Henry had gotten his memory back and she had never in her life seen either of them be so _free_.  Regina snapped the picture quickly, candidly and without a second thought.  It was one of the most precious things to ever suddenly come into her possession.

“Hey, cute kid.” The bartender smiled, then glanced up at Regina to study her for a brief moment as she handed the photo back. “But no, sorry, never saw either of them.  If I can’t do anything else for you then, have a great night.” She winked then turned on her heel and set off to the other side of the bar.

As she watched the petite figure round the corner out of sight, Regina knew she was being toyed with.  She knew when people were trying to play her and she would have none of it.

No one played the Queen for a fool. Ever.

Except now, when she knew with complete certainty that the bartender took off in the direction of where Emma must have been hiding at the other end of the bar, completely blocked from sight behind a large liquor display in the middle. Laying a few bills down, she herself turned quickly and made her way out into the cool night air.  The Mayor turned a corner and tiptoed up the surprisingly well-lit ally then behind a caddy cornered warehouse where she could see directly into the back entrance of the bar and waited.

. . . . . . . .

Twenty minutes later, Emma emerged from the back of the bar and sat down on the top step.  Grabbing her phone out of the inner pocket of her blue leather jacket, she swiped it open and jammed out a text.

**_Sorry I missed you today, Kid. Mom said you have a sleepover?_ **

She sighed to herself and placed the phone next to her.  Running her fingers through her hair absentmindedly, she then tilted her head against the cool metal banister and closed her eyes as one or two guilty thoughts ran through her mind.

Henry.

Her entire first year in Storybrooke revolved around the boy.  She grinned thinking back to wooden castles and Operation Cobra.  Of clandestine meetings and walkie-talkies. She fought his adoptive mother for time with him thinking that there had been some sort of abuse or secret family trauma to make the boy act in such a manner but the truth was so much more than that.

He’d spend almost eight months convincing her about fairy tales and evil queens and her place as the savior with a capital S and squirming his tiny four-and-a-half-foot frame square into her heart.  Only when he took a bite of an apple turnover, gifted to her by Regina, to prove that fairytales really had come to fruition in Storybrooke, did she become a believer.  Looking at him in the hospital room lifeless with the heart monitor flat lined, she said goodbye to her son with a kiss, True Love’s kiss to be exact, and from that moment on everything in her life changed.

She had been reunited with her parents at freakily the same age as herself, but also the tiny hamlet of Storybrooke provided fairytale friends and foes alike.  New friends like Granny & Red, Belle and now even Tink. Foes like Rumpelstiltskin and Spencer and, well.  

Regina.

_Regina freaking Madame Mayor Mills_.  Which brought her around to the second guilty thought of the evening.  No, Regina wasn’t her foe _exactly_ but they certainly didn’t mix well.  They pushed each other away and pulled one another back in so many different directions that it left Emma; unsettled. Her emotions where Regina was concerned fell someplace between bowling ball and ping pong ball.  They were either both very heavy and moving at a fast rate or seemingly all over the place and smacked down at a moment’s notice.

She tried, she really _really_ did but after the clusterfuck of timeline altering in the Enchanted Forest and Robin Hood’s wife appearing in Storybrooke, it looked like the brunette woman would never forgive her thereby extinguishing the warm embers of an almost but not quite friendship.  Or something.  That disturbed her more than she cared to admit and left a boulder of guilt in the pit of her stomach.  Briefly she wondered if she could truly miss something she’d never had the privilege of in the first place.  Why had everything felt just so heavy and burdensome lately?

Her phone shone bright in the dark alley with her sons delayed reply.

_Ma, I’m going camping with Eva and Nick! Isn’t that awesome?!!_

**_It is.  I’m just wondering why I didn’t know about it?_ **

_Didn’t mom tell you? Did you see her tonight?_

**_She told me this afternoon as I was leaving to pick you up_ **

_Sorry guess I forgot :(_

**_S’okay kid. We’ll do time when you get back. . Your mom will murder you if you get worm guts on your clothes BTW._ **

_Eww gross, Ma but thanks.  Hey, talk to Mom, please? I’m worried._

**_Worried about what Henry?_ **

_Just talk to her. Please? For me?_

**_Alright, if I see her I will._ **

_Great! Love you Ma!_

**_Love you too, kid._ **

_That’s strange_ , Emma thought to herself.  Henry rarely, if ever, asked her to intervene with his other mother.  The days of _She’s Evil_ and _I hate you_ and _we can’t trust Regina_ have been over and buried and tamped down by time and forgiveness and something close to hope; something that resembled friendship, and if Emma was even just a little bit honest with herself, the hope for something more.  

Before all this, before the heaviness in her heart and the ache in the pit of her stomach, she would have taken off immediately to find out what was going on with Regina.  She would poke and prod and beg to be let in on anything that was going on in her life outside of the Mayoral duties, even sometimes going as far as to boldly and idiotically knock on her door no matter the time day or night.  Some nights, Regina was worn enough by the day to let her in.  They’d sit in her study for a few hours with a fire lit, sipping on cider.  Sometimes, she’d even find out what was bothering the amber-eyed woman; other times, they were contented with each other’s silent company.  Two people alone but together knowing that if they wished to speak, the other would listen, but satisfied just the same for another person in the room. All of that changed immediately after Robin Hood and his merry family walked across the town line.

Slowly, Emma stood and made her way down the alley and made a left on North Street toward the lake.  Tonight, like every other night or random afternoon she spends in the Barrel, had been for nothing except the company of a much too friendly but great looking bartender who knew exactly how to stroke her bruised ego and a few passes from locals she danced around gracefully with _no thanks_ , and _I’m taken_ , and _I have a kid, no time to date_.

It was a beautifully clear and unseasonably cool night out.  With a blush on her cheeks and some liquor in her system, Emma felt _almost_ normal.  Almost, but not quite. She shoved her hands in her pockets and strolled along the street until the ground changed below her feet and suddenly the sound of solid concrete gave way to echoing gravel.

Upon her approach to the tiny cabin at the leftmost corner of the lake, Emma picked up a few golf ball sized stones and redirected her steps past the Bug nestled between the cabin and some trees, then toward the shoreline twenty-five feet ahead of her.

Sighing again, she scrolled down to Regina’s number, deciding that text was the quicker and most direct option, especially in her almost-but-not-really-drunk-yet state.

**_Why does Henry think we need to talk?_ **

She punched the question out on her device and slipped it back in her jacket’s inside pocket.  She’d let her son down so much in the past month, this was the least she could do in order to even begin to make up for it. Although thinking about it now, that bit of penance would require Regina to actually answer her text message.  Unlike the previous hundred or so she’d send directly after the Marian incident. The Savior rolled her eyes at herself and sighed.  

“Stupid,” She wound up and threw a stone out into the inky blackness of the water.  She heard the echo of a _plop!_ five seconds later.  “Idiot!” Three more stones thrown in quick succession and after a brief delay, landed out of sight in the water. “How could I be so freaking stupid!” She continued to lob stone after stone at the water.

She was certain she couldn’t keep this secret for very much longer.  Not with her parents, _her parents, seriously?_ wanting to do their bravest and best and most underhanded snooping around in her life.  Snow with all of her tittering about when Emma slid in from work with her _anything new, honey?_ And, _Was your day any better today?_  When Emma couldn’t remember a moment between them when she had indicated that her day was any worse than the previous ones.

Then there was David.  David in all of his nobility and calm strength and _dadness_ who would sneak longing glances at her while she filled out reports from behind the computer on her desk.  David who she blatantly ignored when he took too deep of a sigh and switched his booted feet kicked up on the desk from left to right and scratched at the back of his neck, brows furrowed deep in thought. David, who severely underestimated her built in lie detector a week ago, making a pathetic cellphone lost excuse to follow her as she drove towards the town line.

Putting the effort in to fixing what was so inexplicably and irreparably gone and broken between her and everyone else all of a sudden felt like such a _chore_. Emma settled firmly into what one might call complete and utter indifference.  And an indifferent Emma Swan?  Not a pretty sight nor a good sign.  Certainly not good for fairytale characters who had an inexplicable _weekly_ need to be saved.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this ran a tad bit long for my tastes. I had to break it up in a weird spot and that didn't sit right with me at all. So the easiest solution is two chapters! Posted! Together! Horray :)
> 
> * * *

The night sky was clear and the weather was so incredibly in her favor, that Regina was able to follow behind the blonde by almost half a mile and still keep an eye on her.  As she pulled up in her Mercedes to the small unlit parking lot near a lake, Regina noted how the blonde veered off left through the woods.  With the moon hanging high above, she could make out what seemed to be the outline of her deathbox on wheels next to a cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney and Emma’s silhouette off the lake as she made her way from the shoreline and into the wooden structure.  As she killed the engine, Regina felt the remnants of a buzz from her pocket.  A text message from Emma.

**_Why does Henry think we need to talk?_ **

The brunette took a few moments to compose a palatable and very Regina like answer.

_I don’t know, Miss Swan.  Is there something of note you wish to discuss?_

Several minutes later, the reply of **_I’m in no mood for games, Regina_** , came through and the brunette smirked.

_I don’t play games, dear. Perhaps he felt you needed some companionship._

**_And his first thought was you? Okay._ **

Laying on her stomach with a pillow under her, she held the phone at eye level shook her head, ** _come on Regina, I could see him roping my parents in but you?  Wait a minute.  Have you been talking to my parents?_**

_Snow and Charming may have voiced a small concern for your well-being. Henry as well._

She hit send without a second thought.  There was no reason to put up a charade any longer than necessary with the younger woman, not if she was going to get anywhere anytime soon.  No, the best plan of attack with Emma Swan, the Queen had quickly learned, was that of a swift and direct hit.  The brunette cautiously approached the tiny cabin that she knew currently housed Storybrooke’s sheriff and peered inside the porch just out of view.

**_You’ve got to be friggin kidding me_** , Emma hammered out on her phone and punched the send button.  She dropped the device to the pillow, got up and stalked over to the mini fridge under the small cabinet unit in the kitchenette.  After popping open a beer and downing half of it in one go she returned to the couch and sighed.

_I’m afraid not. Care to tell me what has the Charmings set so on edge these days, Sheriff? I do have my own life to lead, separately and gratefully very far away from your idiot parents.  The quicker this is resolved, the quicker I can get on with my life._

**_Do me a favor, Regina. Don’t do me any favors.  Consider this mission accomplished.  You can go back to my parents and tell them I’m fine.  You’re released from Snow’s decree or whatever.  You’re off the hook._ **

_First, you can do_ me _a favor, Miss Swan._

**_And what is that, Your Majesty?_ **

_You can open the door._

**_What? I’m not even home! You can stand there all damn night for all I care._ **

A tiny _rap rap rap_ suddenly broke over the crackling of the fire.

_Open. The. Door._

Emma lept up out of her seat and stalked across the hardwood floor because _no freakin way_ was Regina on the other side of _this_ particular door. _No freakin way_ did Regina track her down to the cabin she’d been residing in secretly for almost over a month, “Regina? What the hell?!” She raked her hand through her hair, exasperated and annoyed and, “Seriously?!” She crossed her arms rolled her eyes and put on her very best Henry impersonation.  Sometimes the resemblance was _unbearable_.

Reaching for the screen door and pulling it toward her, Regina took two steps inside the cabin, put her hand on her hip and smirked, “Miss Swan. Fancy meeting you here.”

Emma rolled her eyes and walked back toward the couch, “Whatever. Come in. Not like I can stop you.” She finished off the last half of her beer, placed the empty next to the fireplace and went for another.

Regina closed the door behind her and turned around.  The cabin was deceptively spacious now that she was inside of it.  The door opened to a large living room with a full sized fireplace and hearth along the right side wall.  Across from the fire place, was a deep grey futon five feet away front and center.  Opposite that, a small flat screen TV sat on a wooden stand with various electronics set up on the shelves under it.  On the same wall as the door she just walked through was a large picture window that opened out to face the lake not twenty five feet away.  The curtains were drawn and light from the full moon filtered in between the slivers of the blinds that were currently closed.  To her far left was a love seat and overstuffed chair with a small table between them, then past a half wall she could see a decent sized kitchenette where three barstools sat lined up across a small counter.  Cabinets wrapped around the furthest wall then a narrow hallway opened up in front of her with a closed door on each side and one in front of her.

The silence was broken when Emma cracked her second beer and walked over to sit on the futon in front of the fireplace with her back toward her sudden house guest, “Tell them you saw me.  Tell them I’m fine.” It was monotone and without feeling and almost like an afterthought to what she really wanted to say instead. “Tell them whatever you want.”

“And what shall I tell Henry?” Regina shot back pointedly, “Your son is-“

“ _My_ son?” Emma half turned and gave her an incredulous look because, “Seriously, Regina? He’s my son now?” She turned back to the fireplace and took another sip.  Quietly she added, “He’s _always_ been your son.” She shrugged, completely giving up the fight before it ever even really began.

The Mayor took a few steps more toward the center of the room and sighed. “ _Our_ son is beside himself over you.  Can you tell me with certainty there is no cause for concern?” She tried, she softened, she smoothed out her words so they came silky and warm from her lips.  She moved closer to the blonde so that she was standing next to her, both of them now looking at the roaring fire. “At least be honest with me. You owe me that much.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Regina.” Her words flat lined in the back of her throat before they even escaped her lips. “I’ve done my job. The town’s not on fire.  Leroy and the guys promised they wouldn’t party too hard this weekend and Henry is away.” She shrugged and took another swig of beer then looked at her left wrist.  “And according to my watch, I’m off the clock, so unless I need to do some Savioring back in Storybrooke, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you just leave me be.”

Regina was not about to give in that easily.  She wasn’t about to be dismissed, _dismissed_ like a peasant, _the nerve,_ and go back to Storybrooke without some answers, if for no other reason than to satisfy her own curiosity, her own need to know exactly what had this woman turned so inside out and upside down and so unlike herself at all.  It was unnerving.

No, she would not be simply turned away when it was so important to Henry, _For Henry_ to know that his mother was okay and not running away from something, from him.  This kind of running away from your son had nothing to do with bad choices and best chances.  She was definitely without a shadow of a doubt _not_ okay and from the sound of it, hadn’t been in quite some time.  Stiff-backed and determined, she crossed in front of the Sheriff to her left side and sat down beside her. “You’re acting like a petulant child, Miss Swan and I, for one will have none of it.” She bit, she attacked she targeted.

Emma sat still, watching the fire.

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes, then an hour.  Emma had gotten up two more times and added two empties to the line up in front of the fire place. She leaned her head against the back of the couch, closed her eyes and sighed.

Tentatively, Regina turned and reached out her left hand, touching the crook of the blonde’s forearm. “Emma.”

“What? No more _Miss Swan_ , Your Majesty?” She blew air out through her nose and gave a smirk, “Changing tactics half way through an interrogation is bad form and never gets you the answers you need.”

Regina never removed her hand.   _Empty_ , she thought and took a _really_ good look at the woman next to her.  Her eyes, her gestures, her voice which was normally so full of passion, even if she was discussing something trivial in the morning with their son. Inside of Emma Swan there was always so much life and vibrancy, but now?  Now it was, _all of it_ was, so empty and hollow.  Care free in the worst possible way of all.  “You’re cold,” She noted.

“So?”

“So, we’re not five feet from a raging fire, yet your skin is cold to the touch,” She squeezed her forearm gently and rubbed a small circle with her thumb, “Emma, look at me,” Softer now, lighter. “Please.” A whisper.

Slowly Emma turned her head and lidded green orbs locked momentarily with worried chocolate brown ones before dropping to her hands.

The brunette softened more and leaned closer, “What happened to you?” She asked, almost begged for answers from this broken woman sitting next to her.  Regina reached up tentatively and hooked her index finger under the younger woman’s chin forcing the blonde to meet her eyes directly.

Even though this isn’t what they do. Even though they don’t chase or follow, they no longer invade each other’s personal space, they certainly don’t comfort and tug and touch, “Where _are_ you, Emma Swan?” her thumb caressed just under pale lips and her eyes searched every inch of an expressionless face trying to interpret any twitch, tremor or movement at all.  Regina was trying to navigate the choppy waters of sad green eyes, reaching out for any buoy in the storm.

Emma blinked.  The scrutiny, the closeness of her, of this _woman_ and all of her force and strength and warmth; her sudden tenderness and _god her beauty_ , was too much. Or maybe it was the alcohol.  She took a deep shaky breath and let it out slowly.  As she tried to turn her head away toward the fire, Regina anticipated the retreat and reached her other hand up now cupping both cheeks in her hands.

“Don’t.” Emma whispered.  “It’s too much.” She reached up and latched onto Regina’s wrists, “Please, Regina.” She whispered and swallowed thickly as moisture began to form in the corners of her eyes.  She opened them again, and a tiny tear trickled down her cheek. “Please.”

“Tell me,” Regina whispered back, unwilling to break the spell they’d both been put under, “What’s too much, Emma?” Gently she wiped the tear track away with the pad of her thumb.

“It hurts,” The blonde responded as she blinked back tears and squeezed Regina’s wrists, “The way you’re looking at me.  I _feel_ you, Regina.  You look at me like it _hurts_.”

“I’m looking at you like _you_ hurt. I truly wish you would tell me why.”

Emma shook her head to break the spell they had both succumbed to in the past half hour and made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat. “What are you even doing here? How did you find me?  You know, I did as you asked. You didn’t even have to ask me twice.  You made it clear we weren’t friends, Regina.   _You_ made it clear. And now you want me to open up to you? To trust you with – _things_?”

“I’m sorry.” Regina retained her hold on the blonde in front of her, “I won’t say it again, so you’d better listen closely.”  She waited for some indication from Emma and when given the smallest nod, the brunette removed her hands and placed them in her lap, Emma’s grip remained loose on her wrists.  

Regina took a deep breath, “I isolate.  I put up walls, put on masks. I snarl and bite, I target and destroy. It’s all an elaborate defense mechanism I’ve perfected over the decades.” She turned her hands over in Emma’s lap, their palms sliding together easily, gentle circles rubbing over the tops of each hand. She looked into green eyes and smiled sadly.

“I swiftly and apparently _very_ effectively removed you from my life after I sent Robin and his family over the town line. And while it may have seemed I was only angry at you, I was also angry at myself and the circumstances.” She shrugged. “I _do_ understand logically that you had no idea who this woman was, Emma, and your intention was not to hurt me. Also, perhaps I put an unfair amount of blame on your shoulders for the loss of what I was told could be my happy ending.” She let out a shaky breath herself and shook her head sadly.  Looking directly into green orbs she whispered sincerely, “We no longer hurt each other intentionally, Miss Swan.  Sometimes, I still need to remind myself of that.”

Her voice broke off at the end and she waited a few moments, trying to gather her strength up from someplace behind her ribcage and push it up through her spine.  She straightened up and grasped both of Emma’s hands again tighter in her own she smiled shyly. “Now please, tell me what’s going on so maybe I can help. Hmm?”

Emma contemplated Regina’s little speech as she stared at their hands wound together on her own lap.  Regina _just_ revealed more about herself than she had in the past three years combined.  Regina Mills was sitting next to her all vulnerable and honest and maybe a little, _sorry_? Regretful?

The Mayor was looking at her with all sorts of openness and revelation and doing _take backs_ and their hands were touching, caressing in _comfort_ and _need_ and it was so unnerving.  This woman next to her was certainly not the Regina Mills who tried to feed her into a sleeping curse; nor the woman who had so quickly and hurtfully sent her away, _we’re not friends_ , not two months ago in harsh clipped tones that spoke of _finality_.  This was someone else entirely.

Briefly, the blonde wondered if that held any truth to it at all though.  Perhaps it was just now in these moments without mine’s collapsing and death curses and fail safes and freaking Neverland, _seriously_ , that Emma was beginning to see past the regality and formality of Regina Mills for the very first time.

_Unnerving._

The blonde took a deep breath and squeezed the hands in front of her, “That’s not fair play, you know.” _Finally_ after all of these weeks alone, she was giving in just a little bit, testing the waters of this new path Regina seemed intent on carving for them.

“What’s that, dear?” Regina was truly perplexed.

Emma looked at her with a watery smile, “You’re using your Henry-Voice.”

“Pardon?” The Mayors eyebrows twitched. “My what?”

“Your Henry-Voice.  You have different voices for different people. There’s the Mayor-Voice with clipped but commanding authority, the Order-Food-Voice you use when you know exactly what you want and god forbid anyone gets it wrong.  Then the very special Snow-White-Voice you pull out when you think my mother is irritating.”

“Dear, your mother is _always_ irritating.  That much has never changed.”

The blonde smiled again. “You also have the Evil-Queen-Voice, which I have to admit when I heard it for myself in the Enchanted Forest? Freaking _terrifying,_ but still just a little bit sexy.”

Regina chuckled and nodded her head, “Indeed. I suffered no fools in my kingdom nor under my rule.  It’s not _what_ you say so much as _how_ you say it.”

“Then there’s the Henry-Voice.  The voice you use to coax things out of him when he’s being shy or unsure of himself.  It’s the voice you use when you know he has a question that he can’t decide he wants the answer to,” The blonde studied the woman before her cautiously.  “Regina, why are you using your Henry-Voice with me?  We don’t do this. We don’t talk like this, not anymore, we don’t—“

“Emma, _please_ —”

“—Plead. We don’t plead with each other for answers, Regina.” Emma whined a bit then squeezed her eyes tight and sighed. Truth be told, she was getting tired, so tired, of doing all of this alone.  She’d thought about calling her son’s other mother dozens – and if she was _really_ honest with herself – hundreds of times over the course of the past five weeks.  Not that it would have done much good anyway seeing as Regina was radio silent since asking for space. And now? Showing up out of nowhere at her cabin in the middle of the night? This grand gesture was going to break down her defenses. One. By. One. Truth be told, the minute she opened the door to the victorious looking older woman, she felt her defenses and her resolve begin to crack and crumble and fall away with every minute she was _thisclose_.  With a resigned sigh, “How did you know where to find me?” She asked quietly.

“Besides your father’s confession about his pathetic attempt to, how do you say, tail you?” She smiled. “I spoke with Henry.  He did a little investigating on his own. I put the rest together myself.” The brunette shrugged.

“Little shit.” Emma huffed out.

“Be that as it may,” Regina, if honest with herself, had come close _so_ many times to calling him just that in the past few years, yet never dared allow it escape her lips.  He was a clever, wily, slick, underhanded, too smart for his own good, intelligent beyond reason _little shit_ truly, and he was theirs. “He’s decided to stop staying at the loft on weekends.  Apparently your covert sneaking in and out at all hours wasn’t so covert after all.”

“Are we gonna play twenty questions or are you just going to tell me everything you know?” Emma asked somewhat annoyed though she truly didn’t mean to be.  Maybe it was the hour, or perhaps the sudden real emotions pulsating between them but she had no interest in yanking answers from Regina one by one at the moment.  Not when she needed so many of her own that had yet to be voiced.

“You have been sneaking out for at least a month,” Regina turned and placed her purse on her lap.  She pulled the folded sheet of paper out that Henry gave her and gave it to the blonde, “Hook and Tink, that traitor, have been gone from Storybrooke for just as long, if not longer.  You have also apparently been living in this shack for that amount of time as well.” She took out the Wells Examiner newspaper Henry was able to locate just a day ago and handed that piece of evidence over, too. “Our son is convinced from this,” She handed Emma the Storybrooke Mirror, “That you are getting ready to leave Storybrooke for parts unknown because it is well documented that you’ve never stayed in one location for more than two years.

“Based on the fact that we’re sitting in a cabin by a lake in the middle of the forest, I’d say that was a fair assumption on his part though he doesn’t know you’ve gone through with it.  He spoke with your parents, your parents spoke to me and then I went home to speak with him.  This all happened fairly quickly last week.  It’s taken until now to figure out exactly where you’d gone off to. That tiny little flea of a bartender at The Barrel was _no_ help at all.”

“You talked to Kinzi? And you know, just for the record, you had Sidney dig up dirt on me and write that article.”

“I know.” Regina rolled her eyes. “Henry knows.  Everyone knows that, Miss Swan.  That’s not the point.  What I didn’t know was that you kept a souvenir and left it where our son could revisit it.”

Emma sighed, “I didn’t. He must have gone through my things while I was out.” She shook her head. “That’s probably where he got the rental listings too.  I can’t believe him.”

“Henry isn’t the issue here, though we will address our son’s tactics and obvious natural inclination to thievery next time we see him. What I can’t believe is _you_.”

“Me? What’d I do?”

That earned Emma a very swift brow arch. “Really, Swan? Look around. You what? Live here now? Your parents loft is no longer good enough? I distinctly remember you saying that Henry didn’t bring you back to break the curse; He brought you home.  So what is _this_?” She waved her hand around the small cabin.

Emma leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees and scrubbed her face with her hands. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“What are you a parrot? I said I don’t know.  I don’t know, Regina.  I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Yeah ok look, Hook’s gone, but, the issue is —” She sighed.  What was the issue? That she felt hopeless and alone? That she was uneasy and unsure of herself ever since the conclusion of Storybrooke’s version of winter wonderland? Her parents had a new baby now, a real honest to goodness _baby_ smelling baby that they had their second chance with.  But they’d only needed their second chance because they sent Emma to a world without magic in the Enchanted Forests version of express delivery. Henry slept over every other week with her at the loft, but even after school he headed toward Mifflin Street to do homework at _his_ house and play video games at _his_ house and take a shower at _his_ house. And it was all just so tiring and pointless and useless to mention anything to Regina about any of it, especially about how she, “I screwed up, Regina.  I screwed up so many things in so many ways.”  She placed both hands on her forehead and focused on the pattern in the rug beneath her feet.

“I see. Care to tell me how?” The brunette cocked her head at the Savior and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I certainly cannot help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“I don’t know how to do this.” Emma croaked out and looked over to her with wet eyes.

“What, talk? You just open your mouth and words come out, Miss Swan.”

The blonde shook her head slightly and screwed up enough courage to make her first admittance of the evening. “Let you in.” Annoyed with herself, she wiped her eyes and turned to face the brunette. “I don’t know how to let you in.” The end of the sentence was uttered sharply and dangled in the air heavily between them.  Even though she was reluctant to trust Regina who surprisingly enough had told the truth this entire time they were talking as her super power had yet to go off, Emma had no desire to pick a fight right now and resolved instead to self-edit her thoughts and feelings before she said something she would regret.


	5. Chapter 5

Regina’s eyes went soft with understanding and the corners of her mouth turned down in remorse.  She’d apparently done much more damage than anticipated when she’d asked, _demanded_ , the blonde leave her alone. Emma tried and failed to get through to her after their talk in the crypt.  Regina thought telling the blonde she didn’t _want_ to kill her was somewhat of a start, but then she began to pull back suddenly, because abruptly and quite unexpectedly, it started to feel like it mattered.  Suddenly, she started to feel like _she_ mattered to someone other than Henry.

Most, if not all people who decided Regina truly mattered wound up most decidedly dead.  

Daniel, her father, her mother; for all of her machinations and plotting, in her own twisted _Cora_ way, had put Regina first and above all.  Even her sister Zelena made it her life’s mission to make Regina _matter_.  What a fine mess that turned out to be.

Look at where it got them all.

Her parents were laid out in matching coffins in her crypt and a grave marker was all that was left of Daniel while her sister took her own life right before all of their eyes.

This was the fate of anyone in the world who dared make Regina Mills matter to them.

She knew for a fact that Emma’s resolve in fixing and soothing and smoothing out the hurt began to fall away after the hundreds of unanswered text messages, innumerable phone calls and denied dinner invitations.  She could almost hear the pieces of Emma’s _resolve_ and _purpose_ fall off one small piece at a time _every_ time the Mayor would obviously walk out the front door of Granny’s when Emma came in through the back.  Regina would cross the street to the other side when she saw the blonde approaching her from a block away and as they walked past each other on opposite sides of the street, The Mayor would peer behind her and imagined tiny chunks of the Savior’s intent falling off behind her like breadcrumbs to be swept away on the wind.  Regina would no longer meet Henry at the door when she dropped him off and Emma stopped walking him there – This all apparently took a toll on the tenuous if not blooming friendship they’d started to form.

“I've been going out with Hook more and more.  Out of everyone in town, it seemed like, I don't know, like I mattered to him in a different way.  In way that didn't make me the savior or the sheriff or responsible for his fate.  There hasn't been anything front burner happening so I decided to cut loose a little.”  Emma wiped her eyes again and looked over at The Mayor cautiously.  “I was so wrong about him, Regina.  I'm trying to fix things now but, I just don't want you to be mad.”

“I’m getting mad now, Miss Swan.  You’re doing everything in your power to forestall this conversation and you’ve kept things from me for quite some time.” Regina pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers and sighed.  It wasn’t fair and it wouldn’t do either of them any good to get angry right now.  It would serve no purpose but to send Emma emotionally and mentally retreating again.  It had taken a good three hours to get this far and backtracking sounded like something they didn’t have time for.

Changing tactics, Regina continued.  “ _But_ , I can’t help if I feel a bit responsible for what’s happened.  I pushed you away and in the process, not only have you been suffering but Henry has been also.  I was completely unaware there was a problem until last week.  I used to pride myself on knowing everything that was going on in this town whether it was my business or not.  I’ll be sure to not make that mistake again.”  Regina grasped the blonde’s hand and squeezed it.  “Consider yourself and any activities you chose to partake in to be on my radar now for good.”

“Oh, joy.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“ _Swan_.”

She sighed. “Fine.  He's an ass.”  
  
“I could have saved you some trouble and told you that myself, dear.  As a matter of fact, I tried to do just that in Neverland.”

“He convinced me we had a future together, Regina.  After everything that happened with Neal, with Walsh?  You'd think I would have learned my lesson by now with guys but no.  I'm an idiot.  The details aren't really important, are they?  Henry had you, Henry's _always_ had you.  My parents are having another baby and the town doesn't pay much attention to me unless a portal opens up and they need me to fall through it.”  
  
“What does this have to do with anything, Emma?”

“I used my magic.” She whispered.  “I think most of its gone actually, which if I’m being completely honest, I’m not sure how I feel about that yet – but also?  I wish you woulda warned me how tired I’d be after.  I guess that shoulda been a given, but …  Hook, he threatened you and I couldn’t do it, Regina.  I couldn’t stand by and let him even talk about … He almost convinced me he was all I had, that he was the only person who really wanted me.  It worked.  For a while.  I mean seriously, who puts their one-hour old kid in a tree and hopes for the best?  Apparently my parents do.”  
  
“Emma, what did you do?!”  
  
The excuse flowed past Emma’s tongue and slid over her lips just as it had a million times before.  _For Henry; because of Henry_.  “I couldn’t risk losing you, Regina.  I couldn’t bear to think about what it would do to Henry.”  _‘What it would do to me’_ , the Savior want to say, should have said, but the words stuck in her throat like ashes from a raging fire.  “True love magic doesn't just break curses; apparently it creates freakin portals too. Who knew?!”

Regina rose from the couch and walked over to the window where the moonlight was spilling into the room.  She placed her arms forward and leaned on the window sill for support, closing her eyes.  Shocked was just one word in the myriad of feelings she’d experienced while listening to the blonde recount everything that occurred.

She was angry about the tactics the pirate used to get to her, to isolate her from the people that truly cared.  Emma had narrated a few childhood stories to her revolving around being taken advantage of in that same way.  She was well acquainted with Captain Guy-liner and the dubious tactics he employed in order to get his way.  They’d confided in each other once upon a time under the canopy of Neverland’s endless forest. All the little things that added up and created cracks in Emma Swan’s armor came pouring out randomly as they cut a trail together intent on finding their son.

Emma walked up next to the brunette and spoke softly.  “He’s gone.  Him and his ship and as far as I can tell, he’s never coming back.  Not if I can help it.  He could have threatened me all he wanted, I can take it, but once he started talking about …”  Her words broke off at the end.  She didn’t think she could bring herself to finish that sentence, and truth of the matter was, she wasn’t quite sure Regina could stand to hear it.  “You know, funny thing is, this is the most normal I’ve felt since then.  I’m just so tired all the time both emotionally and physically.  I don’t really feel anything anymore, Regina, but, it’s easier here. Not much but, enough that—“

“Enough that you rented a secret cabin in the woods?”

She nodded, “Yeah.”

Regina turned her head slightly toward the blonde.  “You should have come to me, Emma.”

The Sheriff scoffed in annoyance and narrowed her eyes at the brunette.  How _dare_ she.  “I _tried_ to talk to you.  Don’t make this my fault, Regina.  You said it yourself, you _removed_ me from your life.”

Regina turned to her left and faced the Savior glaring. “No, this has nothing to do with us, Miss Swan and has _everything_ to do with magic and my town!  It has _everything_ to do with the almost weekly appearance of villains and portals and fail safes and wraiths and Neverland.  This has to do with _magic_.  Don’t you see? I could have helped! I would have helped had you made it _abundantly_ clear that—“

“That what!?  That it wasn’t about how awful I felt seeing the look on your face at Granny’s?” Emma cocked her head and stepped into the Mayor’s personal space.   _This_ she could do.  This back and forth and push and pull and tug of _endless_ war they were both so very good at.  “I should have made it clear that it wasn’t about saving Marian!?”

“Yes!”

One step closer with her voice raised and hackles up, the Savior was teetering on the brink of rage.  A rage that she'd forgotten existed in the past few weeks and in this moment it felt _oh_ so very good. “I should have made it clear that it had _nothing_ to do with apologizing and—“

“Yes!!” Regina stuck her chin out in defiance.

“And that it had nothing to do with missing _you_!”

Almost every light bulb in the tiny cabin suddenly exploded.  It was as if they were on a plane and the cabin pressure dropped off during a steep decline as the vessel nosedived into the side of a mountain at warp speed.  That's exactly what they were doing, veering off course and straight into a fiery crash that would hold very few, if any survivors.

Emma grabbed the woman in front of her and covered her body with her own. Being pissed off at Regina somehow never stopped the _annoying_ ingrained need to protect her.

Peeking over her shoulder slowly, Emma determined that only the crackle of the fire could be heard, and the only light in the room was from the fireplace and the windows. “That was—”

“Magic.” Regina finished needlessly.

They both stood up and looked around the room.

Regina opened her mouth; then promptly shut it again.  All of the anger she felt rise inside of her like the buildup of a steam engine suddenly dissipated as she took a much needed deep breath and let it out slowly.  Emma had missed her. This proclamation threw her for a loop and she had no idea where to take the conversation now.  Emma had missed her but the seemingly easier part to address at the moment was, “There's magic in this town.  That's impossible.”

“And yet,” Emma swooped her arm out in an arcing motion, presenting the broken glass strewn across the floor of her tiny cabin.

“We need to go back to Storybrooke immediately.” Regina cast her gaze on the still stunned Savior.

Emma shook her head while walking away, “No. _You_ need to go back to Storybrooke.   _I_ need to clean up the mess before I get a piece of glass embedded in my foot during one of my middle of the night walks for water and die of an infection.  That would be just my luck.  Neverland? Pfft, please.  I can see the headline now: Savior done in by gangrene.” She smirked and ran her hand through long blonde locks.

“This is not up for debate, Miss Swan.  I need to get to my vault.  There are potions I can make, spells I can cast in order to find out what is wrong with your magic.  I need to access my spell books and begin research immediately.”  
  
“Still not sure what that has to do with me being there.”  Emma replied as she moved around her living space, sweeping all the glass shards toward the kitchen area.  She carefully gathered any remaining bits from the living room and continued to sweep.  “I'm staying here.  You don't need me for this.  Let's be honest, Regina, you don't need me for anything, not really.”  She bent down and swept the remaining pile into the dustpan and emptied it into the trash in the kitchen.  After taking a glass out of the cabinet, she filled it with water and gulped it down in one go.  She'd learned from experience during one too many binges that water would ease the hangover she'd be expecting in the morning.  Another full glass of water down, she turned and found a very unamused Mayor standing a few feet away with her arms folded across her chest.  Blonde hair swept across her face as she shook her head. “No.”

When the Mayor got something in her head, there was no stopping her until that thing was accomplished.  Evidence of this was the Groundhog Day she and her town lived in for twenty-eight years after casting the curse she was sure would lead to her happiness.  Evidence also lay in the rebuilt trust between her and her son.  She'd worked tirelessly to regain his love and prove herself worthy of him calling her 'mom' again.  Her son who was currently bruised emotionally by his other mother's inaction and disinterest.  His other mother who stood here, with nothing but boredom and vague annoyance written on her face.  The difference between now and ten minutes ago was night and day.  It's as if a switch was flipped off inside the blonde's head, blocking out all emotion.  Suddenly, she got an idea.

Emma noticed the tiny change of facial expression skitter across the Mayor’s features before she slammed the mask in place again.  “I know that look, Madame Mayor, and if you think for one minute you're going to go full on Queen and bully me—” Her words were suddenly cut short by the brunette slowly inching closer into her personal space.  Only a foot, twelve small inches, separated them now.  Widening her stance, the savior leaned against the back of the sink with her hands gripping the sides.  After taking an audible gulp, her eyes darted left and right then straight ahead and bore suspiciously into dark brown ones before her.  “Regina, what are you doing?”

Reaching out with both hands grabbing the sink between the Savior's hips, she took a step closer still and sealed the remaining space between them. A hairsbreadth away from the blonde's ear, she noticed a subtle change in her breathing.  A slight tinge of pink crept across light skin and disappeared past golden locks. “Don't think about it, just tell me what you're feeling.”  
  
“You're in my space.” Emma grunted out.  She lifted her hands to slim shoulders, trying to push and gain some distance.

Regina remained unmoving. “Are you mad? Annoyed? Raging? How do you _feel_ , Swan?”

Emma took a deep shuddering breath and snapped out through gritted teeth, “You're too close, I can't breathe and you're really starting to piss me off.” She shoved at the woman's shoulders again, still unable, or perhaps just a little unwilling, to break free.  “Jesus, Regina, knock it off! I'm angry, you're making me angry.”  
  
“Magic is emotion, Miss Swan.” Regina pulled back now slightly to meet the other woman's glare. “Your magic is reaching out to mine.  We have inherent magic, you and I; we were born with it.  The closer in proximity we are, the more your magic is reaching out, causing emotions to stir.” She regarded the blonde before her again, and allowed that thought to settle for a few moments. “Every time I walk away from you, you shut down.  It's as if a switch is thrown suddenly and all of your light goes out.  When I get closer, your magic reaches out for mine, making you more emotional.  More you. It's reaching out looking to combine with something.  To somehow recharge itself.  It’s still there and it’s looking for something familiar.  It’s looking for mine.”  
  
“Like the hat in town hall.” Emma breathed out nodding and examined the woman not inches from her.  Regina's pupils had amber flecks dancing across her irises in the moonlight pouring through the kitchen window she was facing and the sides of her eyes crinkled in a genuine smile at the not so distant memory.  It had been the first time they combined magic.  It had been the very first time without hesitation, Emma had reached out to her.   _She’s not dying_.

Emma could tell the brunette was pleased, or more relieved, that this much had been figured out so far. Her face softened, hardened edges rounded out and palpable relief crept into her features.  It was minuscule, slight by any standard set for facial expressions and most other people would miss it but, with Regina, Emma hardly missed anything.  

Ever.  

“How do _you_ feel?” The Savior whispered almost imperceptibly.  The spell was back, _that_ spell which caught their voices and pulled them under.   _That_ spell wrapped in soft cotton around their vocal chords and bathed their words in silk.  “Can you feel it, Regina?”

Regina's eyes snapped up to green ones suddenly, her breath caught in a hitch and she blinked, becoming all too aware much too quickly the position she herself put them in.  She was standing between Emma's slightly parted legs, her forearms touching her hips and her hands still gripped the edge of the kitchen sink.  Inhaling deeply, slowly, she could smell the burnt wood from the fire clinging to sunshine colored curls and porcelain skin.  There was burning wood and _I’m gonna stick by you_ and beer and _all my life I’ve been alone_ rattling around her senses and cherry chap stick on lips that confessed not so long ago, _I’m not used to someone putting me first._

She peered down between them and, yes, even their hips were slightly touching.  Her eyes traced the ‘V’ shape their bodies made as they came apart at their torsos like two branches off of a tree.  Emma's hands rested lightly on her shoulders and when she met green eyes again, she could see the curiosity and hesitation and _need_ the Savior tried to mask on her face.  While trying as hard as she could to disguise every emotion playing out within her heart, Emma's eyes would always give her away.  “Emma.” Regina whispered and closed her eyes.

It sounded like a prayer, or a plea; perhaps a promise forgotten and lost in the anger and swirling tornado of the painfulness of _you have no idea how I feel_ and the almost fatal wound of _you never had my back_.  But here she was, the broken Savior, her son’s other mother, simply asking just that. Four words that carried so much meaning and history and _hope_.  Four words that, for the life of her, Regina couldn’t sift fast enough through her own complicated emotions to find the thread and stitch a coherent answer together.  Not with her _thisclose_.

Regina didn’t even want to begin to think about the implications of the blonde sheriff’s actions.  Not only did she expel a ridiculous amount of magic from within herself, she did it for … For Henry.  She did it for their son so that he wouldn’t lose her.  That was the explanation after all, wasn’t it?  Emma was well acquainted with what life could be like without a parent who loved and provided and nurtured and sacrificed and she did what she did for their son, but still …

Regina knew all too well the thought-thread she was tugging at now could do nothing but unravel her bit by bit.  But no, Emma had done it for Henry. For Henry. For Henry … for her.  The things that Emma Swan had the _gall_ to do to her; and apparently _for_ her.  Especially when she had no clue she had any effect at all.

The brunette shook her head of the jumbled confusing _infuriating_ thoughts and took a few steps backwards to lean against the kitchen island.  “Perhaps you’re right, Miss Swan.  I should be heading back to Storybrooke.” She managed a tight thin-lipped grin that wasn’t fooling either one of them.

The sudden shoulder slump and crestfallen face were decent indicators that Emma was more than disappointed in the sudden loss of contact.  She just hoped that under the cover of near darkness in her kitchen, Regina would take it for the only other thing it could mean; she was done fighting.  At least for now.  “Yeah.” An _almost but not quite_ smile played across her features, then she began to walk away.

Half a pace into the living room, Emma felt her wrist caught suddenly by a petite hand and she stopped in her tracks without turning around.

“Emma wait, I—” She squeezed the wrist under her fingers slightly and tugged her closer.  Just a smidge. Just a little - _there_.  Right _there_ where she could see the torrent of emotions playing out behind glassy green eyes. So close, so _thisclose_ to all of it, to the _everything_ and nothing all at once, so much, but feeling like she was deserving of _nothing_ at all. Feeling like she failed. Failed Henry, _our son_ , and their cobbled together and so near-good-enough but not-quite-yet family.  “I feel—” She shook her head to possibly clear the jumbled emotions swirling through her brain.

“What?” Emma slid her hand down and intertwined their fingers while stepping closer, trying to meet her eyes.

“It’s difficult, Miss Swan, to form any coherent thought at the moment.  Quite honestly, I don’t know what to say about how I _feel_.  That’s never been essential.  Aside from Henry, it’s never been anyone’s priority to— “

“I know.” Whispered. Reserved. Understanding.

“I know what it’s like.  To not have the life you wanted.  To not have the life you deserve. I know how _those_ things feel.  I’ve had them wrapped around me more than half my life.” She shook her head again and closed her eyes.  Were they even really talking about magic anymore?  When had that line between magic and emotion and something else been smudged and twisted out of focus?  She concentrated on the warmth of the hand holding hers.  She flashed back to Neverland and whispered admissions by the fire.  Swimming in a grove just beyond a cluster of trees.  Sharing rum that was acquired through less than honest means on the way home with _their son_.  Comradery, tentative friendship, idle welcomed touches, purposeful words. “I feel.”

“You feel?”

A tiny shrug, a nod, a slight squeeze of fingers to ground her to the moment. “That’s the best I can do.  I do _feel—_ ”

“Something?”

“Yes. I feel _something_ , but I can’t— I don’t know how to describe—”

“But it’s there.  You’re sure?” Hopeful pools of mossy green sought out amber flecks again.  This was Emma hoping, this was Emma wishing.  This was Emma grasping desperately, blindly, _finally_ after so long of _nothing_ to grab onto.  Just a little bit of— “Something.”

“Something, yes.” Regina squeezed her hand once more for good measure, etching it permanently into her memory.  Purposefully, she began rubbing tiny soothing circles across the back of her hand with the pad of her thumb.

Emma studied the woman before her once more.  She studied her face for a moment, seemingly coming to some sort of unvoiced conclusion in her head, “I think I’d like to sit by the fire for a while.  If you don’t mind keeping me company a little bit longer before you go?” It was still there, that flicker of hope was reaching up and out, trying to beat its way to the surface by _any_ means possible.  It was in the slight crease of her brow, the wrinkle of skin next to her eyes.  She was finding, _clawing_ , her way.

Regina could do nothing but nod.

As Emma turned slightly, the Mayor followed, never dropping her gaze from the one that held hers.  Emma backed into the living room and around the couch.  With their hands still intertwined, each settled next to the other, shoulders touching. Toeing her heels off, Regina pulled her feet up under her legs and relaxed back into the cushions allowing it, and the entire night, to envelope her and comfort her.  

Emma Swan was still in there somewhere; she was sure of it. And the Mayor, former Evil Queen, other mother of Henry Daniel Mills would be damned if she lost _again_ the frayed thread of feeling _something_ for this infuriating woman to pull her back to shore. It was unraveled, thin, worn by mistrust and misdeeds of others and herself, but it was still there.  Emma was still _right_ _there_.  Now she just had to figure out how to get her back.


	6. Chapter 6

First light broke through the mini-blinds.  Slowly, it crept its way across two sleeping forms entangled in each other on a surprisingly comfortable couch.  The blonde blinked against the harsh morning light currently invading her eyelids and squinted, “Ow.”  Her hand reached up and shielded sensitive orbs.

Propped up on her right elbow, she noticed two things.  One, it was insanely early, 6:45am mocking her from the wind up carved wood mantel piece Marco had made her.  Two, there was a tiny brunette curled up against her chest, a petite right hand entangled in blonde hair just below her collarbone.

Reaching around with her left arm, she settled her hand against a slim waist, just below the pocket of a now wrinkled blazer.  She felt around, her fingers grasping a thick piece of glossy paper from Regina's pocket.  

Emma recognized the scene immediately.  She was chasing Henry in the park and she'd noticed Regina watching them from a distance.  The meeting of their eyes was brief, but she remembers it with stunning clarity upon her discovery of the photo.

“Rummaging through my pockets, Swan?”  She hears a hoarse voice, its owner hidden behind a curtain of unruly raven hair.  “Really?”

“This is, um.”  Emma trails off for a beat or two.  Unsure of the sudden _welling_ of things behind her jaw and around her throat, she's thrown off kilter just enough to show an honest unprovoked emotion.  There was a dog eared picture?  In _Regina's_ pocket?  Of her? “God, this is such a beautiful picture, Regina.  Henry's face –” the sentiment comes out thicker than she'd intended and she quickly tries to swallow it away.  “It's –”

“–So full of joy.  With the both of you there, it felt like –.” ' _the perfect day'_ almost escapes the Mayor's lips before she remembers to sensor herself.  This isn't Emma in Neverland; this isn't the Emma who whispered secrets in her ear beside a dying fire.  This isn't even the Emma who hurled Marian through a time portal and aimed her directly at the turning cogs of the complicated pixie-dust certified _reformed_ Evil Queen's dating life.

Monkey's and wrenches indeed.

She steels herself mentally for any exploding light bulbs that may have escaped the massacre last night.

Nothing happens.

Emma lets the sudden weight the conversation took hang in the air for a long moment.  It strikes a chord deep within her, one she's unable to clearly identify beyond all of the other tightly wound chords that have gotten plucked one by one in the past 12 hours by a certain brunette still very much wrapped in her arms.  A few more moments pass silently as she rubs her thumb across the picture, lost in the moment frozen in time under her fingers.  “We've got a really great kid.” _You raised a really great kid._

“Indeed.” She whispers, finally reaching up with her free hand to brush the strands of hair out of her face in order to regard the picture with clearer sight.  Lifting her chin slightly, her eyes then latch onto questioning green ones.  “I was checking my email on my phone when I heard Henry's laughter.”  She reached out and touched flat Henry's cheek.  “I managed to click the camera button just once before you two were racing off to god knows where.”  Suddenly and very intentionally, her fingers grazed across the blonde's at the back of the photo.

Emma's face breaks out into a smirk.  “Why Madame Mayor, I was unaware you posed as a paparazzi in your off hours.  This was a once in a lifetime photo op you managed to get. I wonder how much The Mirror would pay for it.” She earns a swift and solid whack in the arm for her snark.  “Hey, since when do I get hit for _complimenting_ you?”

“Since your poorly timed comedic responses to anything remotely serious began to _crawl_ under my skin and take up residence there.”  Regina sat up slightly on her left elbow, which shifted her forward and even more snugly into Emma's embrace.  This causes the blonde's right arm around her waist to reach up a slender back as her hand goes instinctively to cradle the brunette's back.

How did we get _here_ , from _there_?

Regina takes a second or twelve and a half to close her eyes and _just breathe_ through this moment of sudden push and pull with her emotions sat squarely in the middle of a proverbial rope, a white flag dangling above the slick soaked ground.  That _thing_ is back again from last night.  That _churning sensation_ starting deep within her belly begins to flare up warmer, _brighter_ and threatens to spill all sorts of _something_ out of its own accord.

She _definitely_ feels _something_.

But as she looks up to read Emma Swans infuriatingly beautiful eyes, she's hit with a strong stray beam of sunshine pouring in through the window.  

Way to ruin a moment, dawns early light.

She reaches up, palm out trying to protect her now tearing eyes.  “I suppose you've never heard of window treatments, Swan.”

Regina's _question_ delivered in the form of a wry _statement_ leaves no room to argue that it was rhetorical, and Emma should probably save her breath when in fact she may need it someday.

This was a rather annoying habit the Mayor wielded frequently and without pause.  Regina's question/statements were always undoubtedly true.

“Yeah, well, it's all still a little new to me, you know?  Having my own space.” She shrugs slightly as the conversation turns down yet another road and she begins to search Regina's eyes for _it_ again.  “My place in Boston, where Henry found me?  It was the first place I ever had.  After I got out of jail I lived in my Bug for a time.  I got a job doing some research for my old probation officer and I could eventually afford a hostel a few times a week and managed to feed myself every once in a while.  That led to getting my bounty hunters license and a steadier income.  I was in that apartment a little over two years when Henry knocked on my door and brought me to Storybrooke.”

Regina paused before opening her mouth with a knee jerk response.  The litany of acerbic one liners practically wrote themselves onto a ticker-tape scrolling through her brain threatening to spill out of her mouth without permission.  Instead, she grabbed the blonde's hand holding the picture and placed it back in her pocket.  She entwined Emma's fingers firmly between her own, silently affirming that the blonde would not be given a chance to run or dodge or stall.  “You lived in and out of your car for seven years.”  
  
The not-a-question statement left no wiggle room for half-truths or back peddling.  Emma had done the math for her without even realizing it.  She took a chance and turned her head slightly to the left in order to see what bruised part of Emma her eyes would betray next.  Regina could feel the moment the tension started building then rolling off of her in waves.  It mingled tightly with echoes of _I'm an orphan_ and _they don't know what it's like_.  “Not once did you mention this during all the time we spent together in Neverland.  You never told me that when we were –“

“When we were what?  Back when we _were_ friends you mean?” Emma's clipped tone _hurts_. It stings the way you would imagine a newly scabbed wound does if the marred and hardened flesh were suddenly ripped away from where it had _just_ begun to heal.  It was a low blow, even for the blonde.

Regina decided she'd had just about enough of lobbing warning shots over the other woman’s bow.

In a well-timed agile maneuver, Regina grabbed onto the blonde's jeans at her hip with her left hand, grabbed her left wrist with the right and launched herself atop the blonde, effectively pinning her to the couch flat on her back.  Not allowing any recovery time, she then grabbed both of Emma's arms yanked them down and pinned them flat at her sides under her thighs.

“Regina!  What the hell?!”  She struggled to flip them again but Regina's weight dead center of her body only served to make Emma look like a fish flopping on deck, desperately seeking water.  Undeterred, she continued to try and sit up, flailing her legs up and down in a noble attempt to gain enough momentum.

Ten minutes later Emma gave up all movement and closed her eyes to a sheen of sweat beading up on her forehead.  The wetness built in the creases above her lids and leaked down, stinging her eyes.  The only indication she gave to still being awake was the occasional huff of air expelled from her lungs in the most _annoying_ way possible.

A lone fluffy white towel draped over the back of the couch caught the Mayor's eye and she began to gently wipe the moisture away from Emma's face.

Instead of putting up a fight, the blonde froze under the light touches and soft caresses of the cotton fabric.  It was fresh out of the dryer when she'd packed it in her bag Friday afternoon, hoping to get a quick dip in the lake to wash up after spending so much time in the bar.

Best laid plans and all that.

After a few moments, Regina noted her breathing had evened out and the sweat was no longer reappearing after she wiped it away.  Stilling her movements, she folded the towel over twice and firmly thwacked Emma across the face with it.

“Seriously?!”

“You simply cannot continue doing that, Emma.”  the exasperation in Regina's voice was crystal clear.  Emma was acting like a hurtful _little_ _shit_ and it was no longer going to be tolerated, whether her sudden need to strike was induced magically or not.

Emma's eyes narrowed and the disdain she felt for the woman above her put an extra sharp point on the words that came out.  “Do what? Tell the truth?  One of us has to set a good example _For Henry_. If anyone was keeping score, I'd wager you have _a lot_ of catching up to do.” The physical cringe Emma _feels_ first hand from the woman above her, coupled with the instant glossy wide doe eyes sets something off in the blonde. This c _hurning sensation_ begins low and slow in her abdomen and then fans out in tendrils, like smoke from a still lit cigarette not quite crushed into the sidewalk.

Another wave of hurt skittered across Regina's features briefly before she could muster up even a _shadow_ of the walls she'd been so good at throwing up left and right all her life.  Even the mere _footprints_ of her walls would have been welcomed. “Emma, please –” Instead of like the beginning of a negotiation between two warring countries, it comes out like she's _wounded_ , and _damnit_ _all_ if the blonde's words didn't hit _every_ target she'd been aiming for with her last wave of vitriol.  “I _know_ I hurt you, Emma.  It is only now I'm realizing _how_ _deeply_.”  She swallows _hard_ , she swallows hard and _audibly_ , then her throat betrays her _again_ because the next words go too soft ... then break off at the end. “Every time we get someplace genuine you lash out and undo all the work we just put into _this_.”

Softly.  

Slowly.

Regina reaches down and entangles her fingers in the blonde hair flowing down onto the couch.  From the top of her head to just above bare shoulders, Regina strokes the tresses with much more reverence, much more tenderness than she'd originally intended.

Emma opens her eyes now and latches immediately to pained and sad chestnut colored orbs and the effect is jarring to say the least.  It increases the rate and intensity of the churning in her belly and she's not quite sure how much more she can take.  It hurts. It feels like wave after wave of _not good enough_ and then a sudden sharp drop off into heartbreaking sadness. “You have to stop.” She manages to whisper.  “Regina, whatever you're feeling, you have to stop because I feel it too and it _hurts_.”

Without much preamble, the Mayor lifts herself off the blonde swiftly and turns away, facing the fireplace which had died down to nothing during their unintentional slumber on the couch.  Her eyes lift to the ceiling in a vain attempt at catching the tears that had just traitorously slipped from the corners of her eyes.

_It hurts,_ but for the life of her she couldn't, wouldn't, put her finger on exactly _why_.

She never expected the blonde to be so aware of the magic running through both of them so quickly.  After all, she'd gathered as much from their interaction last night, that close proximity could evoke certain emotions in the blonde, none of which had been at all pleasant.

She found herself quite perplexed and annoyed that now, for some reason, the blonde was picking up on her _own_ emotions as well, that of which she was failing horribly at masking, were the red rims of her eyelids any indication.  So completely lost on her own train of thought, the Mayor startles as a strong hand covers her own and she feels the pressing of Emma's chest to her back. Warm breath escapes from between the blonde's lips, “I can feel you, Regina.”

The ghosting of the words across the flesh of her neck is enough for her to reach up and touch her stomach, mostly out of habit, mainly out of trying to keep all of the emotion and _want_ and fear - _in_.  This doesn't work quite as planned however, as the sheriff's hand ghosts her own in its ascent, and now it's as if the blonde is cradling her across her stomach in comfort.

Not even bothering to hide the shaky breath she takes, Regina clears her throat and tries to sound reasonable, authoritative, sure.  “Magic is, quite apparently, very different here, Miss Swan.”

“Is that really how you feel?” comes the immediate response.  It's not harsh or biting or even well aimed.  It's uttered casually but laced with none of the indifference displayed by the blonde in the last twelve or so hours.  

What the Mayor finds herself in is, quite true to the saying, between a rock and a hard place.  Again, she wonders at the double meaning hidden beneath the blonde's question, for there were two very different answers she could give depending upon which subject the Blonde's mind was latched onto at the moment.  “It's not something I'm entirely unfamiliar with, Miss Swan.  Doing magic often enough with another wielder, has certain side effects.  Though I've not felt anything quite as intense as we seem to be experiencing at the moment.”

The arm around her waist tightens slightly, fingers entwine with her own and the fist of both their hands now rests a little higher, just below her breasts. “That's not –”

“I know.” She sighs and closes her eyes.  Not quite sure if it's out of defeat or annoyance that the blonde immediately called her out on the easier subject to address.

“Then why?”

“Your magic is out of your control.  It's … there's something wrong with it, and it's through no conscience fault of your own.  There is nothing wrong with _you_.”

Emma turns the Mayor around so they come face to face.  Barefooted, they stand the same height – neither looking up nor down at each other; equals, both the same.  Placing her hand lightly on the raven haired woman's shoulder, she blinks again, coming in such close proximity to the raw emotion laying just beyond chocolate colored orbs.  She knows they've both been through the ringer the last few months.  She knows they both know what love and loss and disappointment and fear feel like – _look_ like, in each other's eyes.  “Regina, I –”

“I know.”

“How?”

“I feel you too … isn't that what you were looking for last night?  What you're fishing for now?  Well, there's your answer.  I get an _ache_ any time you feel emotion _strongly_ and it –” An exasperated sigh escapes the brunette's mouth and a patented eye roll graces her features.  She runs her fingers through her sleep tousled hair a few times and straightens her spine, while taking a few steps away from the blonde in order to slip back into her discarded heels.  She takes a walk to the fridge and takes out a water bottle, drinking down half of it before she turns back to the blonde again. “It's only gotten stronger.  If this is how it is after not half a day together, can you imagine how it will be tomorrow? Next week? Next month if we don't get a handle on it _now_.”

Emma stands in front of the fireplace with her thumbs locked into the back pockets of her jeans.  Her head is tilted in contemplation and her eyes track the Mayor's every move around her tiny cabin.  None of it makes any sort of sense to her, but when has _sense_ ever come into the picture clearly when it's her and Regina?  “Regina, look –”

The Mayor raises her hand to stop any further argument and glides over to the front door gracefully.  “It may be a free for all in your book right now, Miss Swan, but as the Mayor I'm not afforded the luxury of taking the weekend off.  I really must be going.”

In a flash, the blonde is blocking the door bodily, glaring at the woman attempting to retreat.  “ _You_ have to stop doing _that,_ Madame Mayor.”

“What are you on about now?”

“You keep cutting me off!  Every time I go to say something you stop me.  For someone who spent the better part of the night trying to get me to talk in the _first_ _place_ , you sure as hell don't want to hear what I have to say _now_!”

“I know what you're going to say, Emma! Don't you _see_ that?! _Feel_ that?!”  The irate Mayor forces her way through the doorway and onto the wrap around screened in porch.  Instead of barreling out the flimsy wood framed door, she barely makes it two steps across the slightly raised wooden deck before she slumps against the house, unable or maybe even unwilling to delve into _that_ particular topic at the moment.  Not with Emma _soclose_ , right there, just – _there_ , but … it wasn't even her _there_ , was it?  No, this was some washed out version of Storybrooke's savior.  This was a worn faded _shadow_ of who the blonde used to be.  This wasn't Emma _at_ _all_ , and it was, _all of it_ was kind of breaking her heart.

The woman skittering about the forefront of her mind steps out from the cabin with her hands awkwardly at her sides and her hair cascading down across a lowered face.  She kicks at nothing in particular on the ground and looks up into red tinged eyelids studying her back.  “Regina, you have to listen –”

Regina grabs her hand and holds it in both of her own close to her chest.  It suddenly feels too much like _you have to go_ and _a good life, for you and for Henry_.  The sentiment is not lost on either when Emma's breath hitches and a tear escapes from the Mayor's eye.  “Emma, _you_ have to listen to _me_ this time, okay?”

Emma cocks her head in confusion and concern, reaching over with her free hand to clasp onto the ones already gripping tight to each other.  She squeezes once and allows Regina to continue.  “Now, as much as I _loathe_ to admit it, especially to _you_ , I must take a page from your book and run.  This isn't you, Emma.  Something has drained your magic and it’s fighting back now, trying to recharge itself in any way possible.  It is magic that is making you act this way – it’s _making_ you feel the way you do.  You were right.   _This_ isn't us, not any more.  I need to get away from this _power_ you seem to have acquired – in which I find myself _utterly_ exposed and _frighteningly_ vulnerable.”

Pulling her hands away slowly, she walks through the screen door then pauses a moment.  Turning around, she gives another sad smile to the now sniffling blonde who she knows is bracing herself for whatever parting words of wisdom she's about to be handed.  “But it's not real.  What you're going through _is_ magically induced.  You're not even _close_ to the person who walked into my town four years ago.”

“Hey!”

“It's not you, Emma!? Don't you get it?  When we, when _I_ fix this and everything goes back to normal, when _you_ go back to normal – everything you've said and done can very easily be chalked up to magic gone awry or whatever monster of the week happened to crawl out of some hole in the wall or down from a beanstalk!   _I'm_ not magically effected.   _I_ didn't have my magic tampered with. The things I say will _not_ be easily forgotten, and the things I _feel_ – well, they can't be chalked up to magical mayhem.  I _have_ no excuse because what _I_ feel is real, and you were right; It _hurts_.”


	7. Chapter 7

Reaching the safety of her Mercedes a hundred or so yards away, Regina placed both hands on the top of her car and took a deep breath.  The things that woman made her think, made her _feel_ …

“Tell me.”  It came as a whisper, as a warm soft breeze across her neck.  Regina should have known better than to believe the Savior would give up so easily no matter how close she’d been to escaping back to her magically acquired hidden from the world safe little town.  “Regina.” It came out like a prayer to some god neither of them had any belief in.

“You _have to_ let it be, Miss Swan.”  Regina whispered into the wind, hoping the words would somehow steer them clear of the bramble and vines that choked the road that suddenly lay out before them.

“I can’t.” Slowly, Emma reached her hand out and her fingertips brushed the Mayor’s slender back.  Just enough, just _so_ ; with confidence and need and a willingness that caught them both off guard.  “I promise,” The hand of the Savior rose ever so slightly, gliding up as she traced each knot in a stiffened spine along the open back dress, the curvature of Regina’s shoulder blades each touching the sides of her fingers as she splayed them out along her journey.  “It hasn’t been that long. You remember the promise we made in Neverland.  I know you do.  I feel it.”

“Emma, don’t.”  Amber orbs disappeared behind long lashes as Emma’s touch grew more sure.  Regina took a deep breath, steeling herself against the chaos of her beating heart, her nerves alighted by having this infuriating woman so close.  Of course she remembered.

“It scares me too, Regina.  It scares the shit out of me but if telling you everything I _never_ wanted to will get you to talk to me,” Emma’s other hand suddenly appeared along the Mayor’s hip.  Her fingers flexed and soothed at the Mayor’s hipbone momentarily before wrapping around her petite waist and sliding almost all the way around to the other side.  “Tell me how you feel.”

“ _I_ can’t.”  Regina lobbied the Savior’s previously spoken words right back at her.  It was a feeble attempt at avoidance of an issue that had gone unresolved for this long.  Why couldn’t Emma Swan just leave well enough alone?   _Because she’s the Savior, that’s why.  She will save every last lost soul until there is nothing left to save of herself._  Silken brown locks tumbled across her face as she shook her head in response. Reaching up to her shoulder, she found Emma’s hand and covered it with her own.

“Neverland.”  The Savior breathed out finally, steeling herself against the roiling her stomach was almost sure to do at the mere mention of the hell they both endured until they rescued their boy.  “I hated Neverland.  Every ounce of my self-loathing, every tiny little doubt or feeling of worthlessness is still tied to it.  I’ve felt like that my whole life.  I have always felt like I wasn’t worth anything but now I can aim all of that at Neverland.  I still hate every branch, every bush, every tree we came across on that goddamn island.” She laughed slightly at the both the absurdity and pure truth of the statement.

The feeling was not lost on the mayor either.  “Once everything had settled in town, I had my landscapers remove every single plant from my property and town hall that even remotely reminded me of anything in that dreadful place.”

“For me, so many things changed there; so much became even more _clear_.  How I viewed my parents, how I felt about myself, how I looked at you.”  Emma’s chin dropped to Regina’s other shoulder and a tiny smile played across her lips.  Regina wasn’t running, not yet.  Regina certainly wasn’t fully cooperating, but this?  This was a start; this was some sort of stunted beginning - instead of the ending Emma had been playing out in her head as she watched the woman retreat toward her car just minutes ago.  “You were so terrified of losing him, and I was too.  God, he had just found me and even the thought of never seeing him again practically paralyzed me.  You kept me going, even if you didn’t realize it or do it on purpose, you kept me on the path to our son.  It wasn’t Mayor Mills or the Evil Queen.  It was Regina.   _Just_ Regina.”

Turning her head slightly, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent that clung to the Mayor.  Even after over twelve hours out of Storybrooke and the comforts of the mansion, Regina still smelled like herself.

“Are you sniffing me, Miss Swan?”  The Mayor managed an indignant huff as she turned her head slightly to give the woman a well-placed glare.

Emma’s eyes only had to raise a few millimeters to greet slightly amused amber orbs that were locked onto her mischievous green ones.  They were so close their noses brushed slightly.  “We were here once before.”

 

{{{{“Don’t come near me, Miss Swan.  Don’t you _dare_!”  The venom that laced her words almost made Emma reel back in fear.  Her eyes went wide, her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ and she stood stock still behind the shaking frightened form not two feet in front of her.

“Regina, what can I do?”  She pleaded, whispered, begged for the Mayor to give her any semblance of a direction to take.

Emma was a doer.  Emma made things happen all the time with her stubbornness and almost unbreakable will.  Standing in the middle of a darkened forest that felt like it was always closing in, “Say the word and I’ll do whatever it takes.” Emma reached for an anchor in the terrified and terrifying mother of her son.  Regina’s duality ever present in the facades she wore; Mayor, Queen, Mother, Friend.

“Where is he?!”  Her voice _almost_ reached an undignified level of desperation.  Regina whirled around suddenly and red rimmed amber orbs latched to a torrent of green.  Her cracks were beginning to show and Emma stood firm, planted her feet, ready for the oncoming shatter.  One step, then two was all it took to close the distance, the Mayor’s hands coming up suddenly and beating against hard unyielding shoulders.  “Where is he, Emma?”  The name broke in half and bounced against the bark of the trees, hitting the Savior in the face.  “Where is our son?” Whispered reverence.   _Almost_ defeat.

Emma allowed the tidal wave of emotions to wash over her.  Standing tall like a lighthouse in a raging storm, she allowed the Mayor’s waves of anguish to crash over her again and again knowing how much she needed this; how much they both did.  Knowing that after, they’d both still be standing.

Stronger.

United.

“I know.”  Emma whispered as fists continued to grab at and slap and anchor themselves against flimsy fabric and reddening skin.  “I know how much it hurts not knowing. I miss him too.” She grabbed for shaking shoulders and immediately the storm stopped. “But he’s _our_ kid, Regina. Ours. He’s brilliant and resourceful like you, and he’s brave and sneaky like me; and we’re _both_ survivors.”

Out of need or embarrassment or both, Regina turned her back to the Savior and took a deep breath.  Not even that was as cleansing as it usually was; not in this humid hell in the middle of an island in another realm that held their son against his will and theirs.

“Promise me. Promise me that no matter what, you believe we’ll get him back. I can't keep my promise to get him back unless you keep _this_ one to keep believing in me … In us.” Strong arms encircled her from behind and before she could even think of reacting, before a protest fell from her lips, Regina leaned back and sighed.  Her body betrayed her mind and she cursed it silently.  Hands comforted and rubbed up and down her biceps and Regina could do nothing more than allow it to happen.  She allowed the comfort, allowed the momentary weakness, allowed herself to need, to feel, to accept.

“I promise.”  Even Evil Queens needed something to believe in after all.

Emma breathed into her ear as she placed her temple against the one next to hers.  “We will find him and he will be okay and we will be _whole_ again.  I promise you, Regina.”

The Mayor’s hands reached up and grabbed the strong arms around her. Squeezing, stabilizing, anchoring. “Emma.” Regina whispered.

“We will be a family again.”  Emma breathed out with conviction. “We _will_ find our son and the three of us will be ok.”  Emma turned her head slightly and placed a firm kiss to a sweaty temple and allowed her lips to linger on warm soft skin.

Instead of freezing or poofing away … Instead of conjuring a fireball and incinerating the Savior on the spot, Regina leaned in and turned her head slightly, just enough and right _there_ ...  Regina closed her eyes, and for a just a moment Regina considered …

Family.

Her eye lids opened slightly, her chin tilted up and up and ...

“Emma?” A distant chirp from the middle of camp had them both springing apart almost guiltily. Almost caught.

Almost.

_Almost ..._ }}}}

 

“You called me … me and Henry; you called _us_ your family.”

“That's because you are.” Emma smiled slightly and loosened her grip now that there was something else to hold onto … To reach for.  “Being mad at me, Regina, that doesn’t mean I stop protecting you.  Out in the middle of Neverland or back here in our world no matter what happens, I’ve got your back.  It’s what Family does.”

Regina took the opportunity to turn around.  Looking into Emma Swan’s eyes in that moment was like diving into a pool of ice water. It was shocking; it simultaneously breathed air into her lungs and snatched it away completely.  It shook her to the core and she took a deep breath … Then on the exhale, “You mean that. Don’t you?”

A slight nod. “I really do.”  After a few moments, Emma broke her gaze and looked out into some unknown point on the horizon. “As much as Neverland sucked, we did it together.  We almost killed each other a few times, but,” Smirking, Emma reached out and entwined their fingers together. “We had each other's backs and not only did we know it, we _believed_ it.”

Warmth began to spread almost immediately along their skin. First, through their fingers then down between where their knuckles met. Then it crept across the backs of their hands, into their wrists and up their arms enveloping the rest of their bodies in a soft blanket of silk and cotton and _acceptance_ and _home_. It pulsed gently off of them in waves toward each other and when the invisible pulses met in the air between them, both sets of eyes snapped to each other.

“Emma.” Regina whispered in wide eyed awe as a tear slipped traitorously down her cheek.  There was no use in trying to blink it away as the motion just made room for more.

“You feel it, don’t you?” A tiny step erased any distance that had been between them. Her other hand came up and a calloused thumb brushed away the tears. “I know you do.”

What could she say?  Anything that slipped out of her mouth would be an admission that truly terrified her or a lie that would send them both off the edge of a mountain neither would ever be able to climb back on top of again.  

Any words that danced between her lips would give this _something_ between them a life all its own or a death before it was allowed to take its first breath. This, all of this standing on the precipice and the brink of everything she'd secretly wished for terrified the Mayor in all the best ways.

Her eyes slipped closed, her throat worked up and then down in an audible swallow and of its own accord, Regina’s head nodded in acknowledgement as her forehead touched the Saviors. “It's not just your magic I feel, Emma,” Regina reached up between their bodies and placed her fingertips against a firm shoulder, palm flat above the Savior's breast. “I feel your heart, I _believe_ you, I…I feel your belief in me.”

Emma didn't mean for it to happen this way _exactly_.

There were daydreams, countless fantasies and tons of wishful thinking moments with spare change tossed down the well during her morning jogs just to cover all bases if she were to be completely honest.

She’d imagined it at the doorway before a goodnight was uttered as if it happened out of habit. As if they’d done it a thousand times and this was a thousand and one.

She’d conjured it up in her mind as a heat of the moment knee jerk reaction to one of their ridiculous fights over nothing and everything all at once.

It was an eight by ten picture framed in the back corner of her mind as something that was stolen under cover of night after three too many glasses of cider; inhibitions left hanging in the front hall closet along with her armor and the Mayors endless supply of masks.

But it didn't happen that way.

Emma moved her head down and Regina lifted her chin up and they kissed _each_ _other_.  Neither bending to the will of the other, they reached out at the same time, together, brushing lips softly against lips. The feather light touch, the ache they’d felt down to their bones for the past twelve hours finally began to subside the closer they got.  The heady and much earned moment was short lived, however, as a strong blast of magic sucked all the air out of the atmosphere, then crashed into them and out again with a whoosh and a ripple that caressed even the lake over a hundred yards away.

Emma went wide eyed and leaned over with her hands on her knees.

Regina blinked, twice, and then reached out to touch the Saviors shoulder. “Emma, are you alright?”

The Savior nodded and lifted her head slightly to meet concerned amber orbs studying her every move. “I think … I think all of my magic came back.”  She stood up and tilted her head to the side. “Regina, how did all of my magic come back? That was … was that what I think it was?”

Regina’s hand flew to her mouth and she let out an audible gasp. Of _course_ that's … no, wait.  Was it?  “It was, well, I’m not quite sure what that was if I’m to be completely honest.”

“You _kissed_ me.” Finally finding her bearings, Emma stepped back into the brunette’s space refusing to let this particular thread of conversation be snipped. Without a second thought, she reached up and ran her fingers through thick silken hair and smiled.

“You kissed _me_.” The Mayor gave an indignant huff of irritation, but the playfulness at the corners of her eyes gave her away.

“ _We_ kissed. We kissed and we made magic happen, Regina, in a land without magic.” Emma wrapped her arms around the Mayor tighter before she could protest or run or poof.  “How is that possible?”

“I think, I mean I ...” she stuttered out and hesitated. Regina Mills, formerly Evil yet still Queen, scary Mayor of Storybrooke and other mother of the Truest Believer hesitated for the first time in her very long life, and stuttered of all things. _Like a peasant_. After rolling her eyes at herself, it hit her like a slap in the face. “The Truest Believer.”

Emma scrunched her face up in confusion. “Henry?”

“Henry, yes, but no, Emma don't you see? Without your True Love magic, your heart magic took over. You have _heart_ magic. You made Henry, literally. You created the heart of the Truest Believer in a land without magic. His heart _is_ magic; it just doesn't _create_ magic, but apparently yours does.”

Regina slowly wrapped her arms around the thin frame of the woman before her. Savior, Sheriff, Princess, bounty hunter … Emma. In this moment in the middle of _another_ god forsaken forest stood just Emma and just Regina and it felt like enough.  “I believe you, Emma. I believed that how you feel in here,” Regina placed her hand on Emma’s quickly beating heart again. “is real and I felt it too.  I feel it, too.”

“You believed in me for a minute and it was enough for my magic to come back.”  Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion again, then softened out as a second thought crossed her mind.  “And I believed you meant it.”

Closing the distance between them all on her own, Regina leaned in and pressed her lips against Emma's again. Firm, sure, strong. Certain. “I _believe_ in you, you _idiot_.  Present tense.”

Emma smirked then guided one of Regina’s hands up between their bodies. Slowly, deliberately, she kissed each knuckle, and then pressed a firm kiss to the back of her hand. With stormy green eyes, Emma looked deep into chestnut brown. “So, let me get this straight in my head.  It sounds to me like I had like half my magic, or less than half and if it’s heart magic then …?  You believed in me, Regina you … you made my magic whole again.”  She shook her head and gave a watery smile.  Her eyes filled up again as she let out a shaky sigh.  “See, here’s the thing, that's … My whole life, all I ever wanted was someone to believe me, believe _in_ me because it's always been so hard to believe in myself.  Especially when all I've ever been told was how worthless I am. How expendable. How easily replaced.”

A slight sob escaped Regina’s throat. How could anyone at any time ever tell this woman this Savior, _her_ Savior, she was worthless. “Never again will that be tolerated.” Regina shook her head and pressed her lips against Emma’s again.

Again with the kissing, and they’d _really_ have to talk about that, “You’re irreplaceable.” They really had to talk about a lot of things but now, right now in this moment it was back to the kissing.

Emma parted her lips as a tentative invitation, as a way to test the waters of this new development in their ever evolving relationship.  She was not disappointed.  “God, Regina,” The moment their tongues met, she wasn’t sure how she went almost five years not kissing this mouth, not tasting this woman not touching and holding and caressing the body so willingly pressed against her own. Even in kissing, Regina dominated.  Regina conquered.  Regina ruled and Emma was happy to give this woman in her arms free reign over every last inch her hands caressed. “I do too, you know.” Emma broke away slightly; just enough to allow the words to ghost across kiss swollen lips. “I believe in you.”

Tears sprang from her eyes again all on their own but she smiled through them and laughed a little at the absurdity of it all. “I think you’ve finally gotten your wish, Miss Swan.”

“And what’s that, Your Majesty?”

“I believe you have broken me quite thoroughly.”

Emma placed a chaste kiss to Regina’s forehead and pressed their heads together lightly, as if sealing some unspoken agreement. Then she whispered reverently, “Then it's a good thing I’m broken too. What do you say we put all of our broken pieces together, yours and mine, and make something beautiful?  Something good.”

A buzzing from the back pocket of her jeans roused Emma from the safe little bubble they’d both encased themselves in. “Henry.”  She shot a guilty look at Regina and accepted the call.  “Hey kid. How was your camping trip?”

“Did you talk to mom?” Their son, or in this case if his tone was any indication, Regina’s son cut straight to the chase and didn't mince words.

“Um, listen kid,”

“Give that to me, Miss Swan.” Regina snatched the device out of her hands and made a beeline toward the cabin. “Henry, darling how was your trip?”

Emma watched Regina retreat back to the cabin with the phone pressed tightly to her face. Annoyance practically radiated off of her in waves. Did she honestly think she was gonna tell him about all of this? On the phone? _Oh, hey kid by the way, your mom and I shared a kind of heart magic kiss thing and I think maybe she loves me but enough about that, did you catch any fish?_

. . . . . . . .


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy CRAP ON A STICK!!! I finished a multi-chapter OUAT SQ fic??? Seriously??? Eghads, there should be a parade or something.

Emma tried to go for aloof and cool confident indifference and she almost pulled it off had she not tripped up the last step leading to the screened in porch and practically ripped the door off its hinges while trying to stay upright.

Regina sat at one end of the love seat overlooking the lake and quirked an eyebrow in the blondes direction.

“Sorry.” Emma mumbled as she sat down next to the contemplative yet silent woman.  The woman who not ten minutes ago was kissing her, willingly with teeth and tongue and everything. No one could ever accuse Regina Mills of doing something half assed. “I wasn't going to tell him, you know.”

“I know.” Regina turned to her and gave a slight smile. “I do want it to come from both of u,s that is _if_ we decide to tell him anything at all.”

Emma sighed and ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “And what is it _exactly_ we’d be telling him, together, about us?” She mumbled under her breath.

Regina turned her head and peered over at her.  A few wisps of dark hair flowed down across her face.  Immediately Emma reached out and tucked it behind her ear.   _Now_ Emma decided to be direct and to the point. _This_ was the moment she'd chosen to put the proverbial cards on the table. All of them; _of course_. "Our son has quite the knack for knowing when we are keeping things from him. It's one of his _very few_ annoying qualities.  He obviously gets that from you."

Emma grinned, knowing a well-placed deflection when she saw one. This was usually where Regina threatened a fireball to her ass.  That or she'd give a sassy retort and regally walk away.  But in this moment, in the here and now, neither of those things happened. Regina was taking a chance, a big one, so Emma decided to do the same. She placed her hand atop the ones folded in Regina's lap. "Here's the thing. As much as you make me crazy and angry sometimes, I can't help but worry about you and want to keep you safe. At first, it was because of Henry … but now?"  She shrugged, sheepish and suddenly insecure.  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do it for myself too.  Cause I did, ya know.  Keep you safe _for_ _me_.  Probably longer than I realized.”

Regina unfolded her hands and captured the Savior's trembling one between her own. To be _considered_. To be put ahead of and in a place of importance in someone's life that wasn't trying to ruin her or change her for their own purposes or make her _less_ _than_. It was a concept that was completely foreign. Even her pixie dust certified soul mate put her in a particular place; second.  "I suppose I would not be remiss in saying that there may have been certain things I’ve not allowed myself to admit out loud."

"It was always in the back of my mind, ya know? In Neverland, if Snow hadn't come looking for me," Emma shook her head and grinned while staring out at the lake.  “You’ve thought about it too.”

"I know, Emma and yes, I have."  Regina gave her a thin lipped smile, still genuine none the less, as soon as their eyes met.  “Probably more times than I will allow myself to admit at the moment.  Perhaps that is a discussion best held at a more proper juncture.”

It was Emma who leaned in this time. It was deliberately slow and calculated. If she'd learned anything about Regina Mills in the last four years, it was that this was not a woman to be cornered. This was not someone you took choices away from; ever. Emma resolved silently that from now on, Regina would always have all the choices, in every way imaginable.  "I'm gonna kiss you now."

A perfect eyebrow rose in query and a tiny, _smug_ grin lifted the corner of her lip.  "Is that so, Miss Swan?"

Emma's eyes darted to those lips. Those perfectly shaped Cupid's bow lips painted dangerously dark red.  It was secretly one of Emma’s favorite colors on her.  It was a rich, almost burgundy red.  How Regina managed not to smudge her lipstick with all the kissing that _she_ initiated previously, well, Emma would have to tuck that stray thought away for later because right now, _right_ _now_ ...

Tentative, soft and exploring, Emma’s lips pressed against the painted ones before her with something akin to reverence, with a _need_ she was almost certain she’d never felt before in her life.  But that wasn’t true either, was it?  She’d felt this need before, this yearning; for something that was all hers, and whole and permanent.

Regina felt it too.  She was full to the brim with her kisses of want and her lips of need for the ones currently blazing a hot wet trail along her neck.  Each nip and drag of teeth, each press and caress of tongue was wrecking her resolve bit by aching bit.  Slowly she pulled back and placed a chaste kiss to the set of kiss swollen lips before her own.  Timid and gentle; with a soft glow cast over every feature, she smiled.

Emma inhaled as if she’d just woken up on a cool Maine morning. “That’s it.”  She whispered.  “That’s the face that goes with the Henry-voice.”

Regina shook her head in protest.  Cupping the face before her with two delicate hands, she looked deep into darkened pupils and smiled that smile again.  “ _This_ face, is reserved especially for you. It’s the one I have on when I see you reach out to our son and move the bangs from above his beautiful eyes; the eyes you gave him that are so similar to your own.  It’s the way I looked at you when you stood in front of me and told your insipid parents that I wasn’t dying.  _This_ look, _this_ voice Emma, has _always_ been for you.”

Emma ducked her head shyly and glanced down at her own hands suddenly wringing themselves together in her lap.  Regina _cared_.  Regina felt something.  Apparently much longer than she had ever let on and it was a sobering thought-train to jump onto.  Suddenly, everything was shifting again and the quick paced changes were starting to give her a migraine.  The most noticeable immediate adjustment was probably the easiest to address. “I can't really feel you anymore.  I mean I kinda can, it’s there, but it’s more like,”

Regina nodded.  “A soft hum, just under the surface.” She slipped her hand on top of the two that were currently fidgeting in the Saviors lap. “Emma, we’ll be okay and so will Henry.”

“How do you know? How do I know when we get back to town that everything won’t stay the same as it was before? This could all be some magical fluke Regina, some sort of a trick or something,” her hands make wide arches in the air and flailed about in frustration. “We don't know what happened, not really, and I got the spell out of Gold’s book for god sakes I mean seriously how dumb was that? He could have booby trapped it for all we know,”

Her rant was cut off by Regina’s tiny yet surprisingly strong hands: one across her mouth, the other behind her neck.  “Are you quite done with your ranting and raving like a lunatic?”

“Mmnoo!” Came out the muffled unamused reply.

Regina smirked.  “Well too bad. I’m quite certain you will do nothing of the sort when our son arrives in approximately,” she shifted her wrist to check her watch and smirked at Emma _again_ , whose eyes at this point resembled saucers. “Fifteen minutes.  So if you insist on _losing your shit_ , as you are so fond of saying and quite often doing, you’d better make it quick, Miss Swan.  We don't have all day.” The Mayor removed her hands and folded them in her lap.

“Did you just _curse_? Seriously?” Emma's head tilted slightly as she regarded the woman next to her.

“Yes, I am quite fond of cursing, both literal and magical, but is that truly all you got out of that?”

Emma's eyes went comically wide. Again. “Henry! Henry is coming _here_?!” Like a shot, Emma was out of the chair and flying through the cabin door.

Regina sighed, rolled her eyes and reluctantly followed her.

In the span of ten minutes all of the dishes were washed and put away, garbage bags were thrown into the can behind the cabin, the floors were swept, pillows fluffed and the blanket was folded over the back of the futon.  

Emma was currently squatted down in front of the three shelf bookcase running a damp cloth over the spines of the books and edges of the shelves getting rid of the nonexistent dust.

Regina squatted down next to her and placed a hand in her bicep.  “Emma it all looks perfectly fine.”

“He grew up in a _mansion_ , Regina.”

“Since when has that ever mattered before?”

“It's what you gave him. It's what I wanted for him, his best chance with the best person who could love him the most.  And he got that and more because of you and I’m so grateful, but” she sighed and looked down at the bottom shelf, running the rag along the exposed wood just for a distraction at this point. “This is all I can give him. I wanted this to be ours, eventually - when I finally got my head out of my ass and screwed on straight, I want to fish with my kid. I want to make s'mores by the campfire with him and his stupidly beautiful mother.  What if it's not enough?”

Regina stood and put her hands out, bringing the blonde up with her.  She linked their hands together in front of them and squeezed in reassurance and understanding. “What I hear you saying, Emma, is what if you’re not enough. What you're worried about is our son being angry with you, so angry that he would throw you away like so many others have done.”

“Yeah.” Emma whispered.

“The way I did.”  Earnest brown eyes stared intently at their clasped hands.  To say this weekend had been a revelation for her would be the biggest understatement of the century.  Emma sending the pirate away, because of Henry, because of _her_ … it still wasn’t something she was able to wrap her mind around completely.  The fact that even when she’d sent the blonde running in the opposite direction with more than harsh words, with misplaced blame and misdirected anger and still, _still_ she was protected and kept safe.  “I do not have many regrets in this life, Emma.  But the thing I believe I will regret most of all is the way I have treated you these past two months.  Many things have become quite clear in this time we’ve spent together hidden away in your little cabin.  Not the least being your keeping me safe without my having any knowledge of it at all.  I’m not sure if I should thank you or throw a fireball at your head.”

Emma leaned over and whispered, “I’d much prefer if you found a way to thank me.”

Regina shivered from the non-contact.  She pulled back slightly, not out of rejection, but the need to continue to make her point.  “He could never, would never walk away from you, Emma.  Nothing you ever say or do will change how much he loves you. You are his mother.”

“You’re _both_ my mom’s.” Henry’s voice broke the solemnness of the moment and they both sprung apart.

The screen door creaked on is hinges as their son walked through it, absorbing his surroundings slowly. "So."

"Henry, listen, it's not what you think." Emma took a step forward, hand out and prepared to latch onto his shoulder, to anchor him if he inevitably tried to pull away.

"I think you bought a cabin."

"Oookay, maybe it is what you think." Emma smirked.

He smirked right back at her with a gleam in his eye that made her mouth begin working up and down with no sound coming out. Henry apparently had a few things to say to his moms.  "Also, Killian? I liked him even less when you started dating him. He took up all your time and followed you around like a lost kitten. A pirate kitten that smelled like fish."  He walked past them and flopped himself down on the couch. "That was funnier in my head I think." He shrugged and swiped some hair from his forehead.

While Emma worked on regaining her ability to form words, Regina turned to her son and smiled knowingly. "Henry Daniel; exactly how long have you been standing out there on that porch eavesdropping?"

Caught, he was smart enough to drop his head slightly in embarrassment, but a tiny smirk still remained at the corner of his lips.  "I guess a few minutes before your poor attempt at an apology."  He put his hands up in surrender when Regina glared at him.  “No offense, mom, but you always did suck at saying you’re sorry.”

"Henry!" Finally there were words coming out of Emma's mouth, in shock no less, as her brain quickly rewound to that moment between her and Regina.  If Henry heard the apology, then Henry saw …

Henry turned to his blonde mother and smirked, _smirked_ like he totally knew something he shouldn’t and was about to say something in that same vein.  "Maybe I can get a pass on the spying this once seeing as I just watched you _chewing on mom’s ear_."

And there it was.

Emma was more offended over the comment than she was shocked that it fell from her son’s mouth.  "I did not _chew_. You make it sound like I had a squeaky toy in my mouth!"

"I know what squeaky toys sound like.  That sound coming from _my_ _mother_ wasn’t it." Henry deadpanned.

Regina just stood by silently and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. Children; both of them. What in the world had she gotten herself into loving not just one, but _two_ Charmings.

Wait. _What_?

No, never mind that stray thought; back to the matter at hand.  "Children!" Regina had had just about enough. She glared between the both of them and huffed.

“The way I see it, moms,” Henry rose off the couch and started walking toward them.  He noted that they glanced at each other before facing him again.  He never understood why they _never_ saw it.  They always checked in with each other silently.

  _Always_.

One glance and bam! roasted chernobog (according to grandma at least).  One tiny look and boom! They moved the moon (well, the way Gramps told it anyway).  He wasn’t able to see these things so much as relive them with the people who had been there.

Their importance, their station in each other’s lives was becoming more and more clear to him every day he spend with each of them on their own, then those precious few times they were able to be, “Together, it’s like, you guys can do _anything_.  You’re some unstoppable superhuman force that no one can mess with.”  He grinned as he came to a stop and grabbed one of each of their hands.  He joined them both together, and then placed his own on the top and bottom.  A Swan-Mills family hand sandwich of sorts.  “Team moms.  I’m kind of a fan; have been for a while now.”

“Henry, you’re okay with …” Regina looked at him with wide eyed wonder.  Where had her little boy gone?  Where was the brown haired four year old that lost his first tooth and tied a string around it to try and catch the tooth fairy so he could keep her as a pet?  Where was the eight year old who secretly loved when she insisted on still reading him bedtime stories?

“With my parents being together?  Come on, mom, what kid in their right mind wouldn’t want that.”  He rolled his eyes in such an _Emma_ way, Regina could do nothing but blink in his general direction.  Blink and stare.

He shrugged and looked at Regina, smiling at his taken aback mother. “Besides, I thought it was gonna take _forever_.  That's why I convinced Grandma and Grandpa to talk to you. I knew if I asked you to talk to mom myself, you'd know something was up. But if the request came from Snow White, who we all know that you've secretly made up with and would do anything for ... you know you're not fooling anyone with that tired vengeance thing, right?"

"You little _shit_." Emma's grin betrayed her words.

Henry had duped them, had blind-sided them in a completely Machiavellian way. Regina wasn't sure if she should hug him for his scheming that resembled her own or ground him for the rest of his teenage years for having a big beautiful heart like his blonde mother.  Bringing back happy endings seemed to be a sudden familial trait.

Charming indeed.

"So, do you have any breakfast food in this place? Cause I'm starving."

"Are you serious?" Emma gaped at him.

"Totally, mom. All this planning and scheming is exhausting, but don't get me wrong, completely worth it since I get to have my family together at the end of the story."  He grabbed his bag off the floor and slung it over his shoulder. "It's only half past ten and if I'm right, you got this place with me in mind, so I'll assume my room is this way?" He jutted his thumb in the direction of the small hallway off the kitchen.

Emma tilted her head and scrunched up her eyebrows at her son, their too smart for his own good, endearing and scarily brilliant son.  She nodded her head in affirmation.  "First door on the right."

He smiled at both of them.  "Good. I'm gonna go read some comics I didn't get a chance to yesterday. Let me know when the food is ready."  With a parting kiss to each of his mother's cheeks, Henry headed toward his room and snicked the door closed.

"Huh." Emma huffed out and stared at the door their son just disappeared behind.

"Well," Regina clasped her hands in front of her and rubbed them together slightly.  "I'll have to have a talk with Michael about feeding our son while in his care."  She turned slightly to Emma and smiled.  "Please tell me you have something in the refrigerator other than that carbonated swill you were pouring down your throat last night, Miss Swan?"

Emma could do nothing but nod. "Um, oatmeal and dried fruit, stuff that has a long shelf life, yeah. And I picked up some eggs last week so they should still be good and the coffee pot is on a timer for 9:30 so ...."

"Excellent."  With that, Regina toed off her shoes and padded into the kitchen.

Emma tried to wrap her head around everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes, even the last twenty four hours while she sipped her coffee and leaned against the butcher block counter in her kitchen.  Her son was reading comics in his room.  The room she had intended for him once she’d been able to work through the mess that was her head.  Regina was cooking breakfast in the kitchen, Emma’s kitchen and if she were to be completely honest with herself, when she bought the additional appliances, she’d had the Mayor in mind.

Another sip passed her lips as she closed her eyes and inhaled the rich aroma of the dark brew.  Coffee did indeed make everything better and clearer in her head.  Placing her cup down almost silently, she closed the few feet of distance between herself and the brunette currently watching the kitchen mixer go round and round.

Regina jumped slightly as she felt Emma’s hand settle on her hip.  She tilted her head just enough to catch the blonde out of the corner of her eye.  “Something I can do for you, Swan?”

Emma grinned and shook her head.  “Nope.  Just want to make sure you found everything okay and to your liking.”

This caused Regina to turn around fully and face her.  “I must admit, I didn’t quite expect to see a kitchen-aid mixer, twenty speed blender, convection oven and a high end coffee pot in this little log cabin of yours.”

Emma shrugged.  Slowly her hand glided up the Mayor’s arm to her bicep and she gave a little squeeze.  “You may not know this but I am a pretty decent cook.  I will admit that when I bought the appliances I kinda had this whole, I dunno, _thing_ in my head about how things were gonna be. Creature comforts, ya know?”

Regina grinned and leaned in slightly causing the blonde’s breath to hitch.  Very softly she whispered, “Is  that so?”

Emma gulped and whispered back, “Yeah.” Taking a chance, a stab at something - that _something_ that engulfed them on the porch, Emma leaned in - she leaned in and breathed in, then out and whispered, “I could get used to this, Regina. Could you?”

Her breath caught on the exhale and she looked into those mesmerizing eyes, “Get used to what?” Placing a hand on a delicate shoulder she pushed ever so slightly, she pushed away the feeling of the spell they’d fallen under again.  Desperately, she looked for physical space in between this now suddenly emotional moment.

“Our son...”  Emma soldered on. She knew what Regina was doing and was going to have _none_ of it. None of it at all. “In his room …”. She placed an intentional feather light kiss on bronzed skin, just below her ear.

“Emma.” Regina breathed.

“Reading comics on a late Sunday morning…” her kiss traveled down to the juncture between a slender neck and exposed clavicle.

“ _Emma_ …” Regina’s temple pressed lightly against the soft blonde curls just millimeters from her. Infuriating is what this woman was. Infuriating and just so…

“Us ,drinking coffee, you making breakfast…” Emma’s hand gained a will of its own and after squeezing the bicep beneath it, in that spot - in _their_ spot - it made its way up and entangled in thick dark tresses.  Pulling back slightly she regarded the deep pools of amber blinking back at her. “But only if…”

“If…?” Regina whispered. She blinked a few times, unsure of where this was leading but knew full well deep inside her heart what she was being asked.  After all, Emma Swan, well, she was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

“If you want it.”  Emma smiled sadly and put physical distance between them herself this time.  She had some pride left after all. She wasn't going to throw herself headlong into something, someone, who didn't want her just as badly. No. It wasn't going to work that way. “All you have to do is say so.”  With a shrug, the blonde picked up her almost forgotten cup of coffee and backed away into the livingroom.

. . . . . . . .

Breakfast wasn't exactly an awkward affair. Thank god for Henry. He kept the conversation light and going with his tale of camping overnight and fishing with the Zimmermans. Each time he remembered a tiny detail about his adventures, his eyes would light up and go wide just before launching into his explanation. “It was great, moms. Thanks again for letting me go.”

“It was more your mom than me, Henry.”  Emma smiled tightly. She hadn’t even known about his trip until Regina informed her over lunch on Friday afternoon.  How can forty eight hours feel like a lifetime ago? “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna finish my coffee on the porch.” She tilted her head slightly in her intended direction and smiled tightly again.  “I'd like to get some fresh air.”

With that, Emma Swan was out the door.

Henry none too gently nudged his dark haired mother who was staring at the freshly slammed porch door like it held all the answers to life and everything.  “What did you do?”

“Pardon?” Regina narrowed her eyes at him.

To his credit, Henry reeled in his displeasure - somewhat - and adjusted his tone.  “Mom was all,” he waived his hands in the air frantically and lowered his voice to a panicked whisper, “twitchy through breakfast.  And I saw the looks between you two. What did you do, Mom? Why is she running out the door like she can't wait to get away from us? Again.”

“Henry,” Regina began. She didn't even realize she was doing it. She was building the wall, brick by brick and without any effort at all, the politicians smile graced her face. “I think what you’ve attempted to do here is, noble, but…”

“Mom stop.”  With a patented eye roll courtesy of nurture over taking nature he stood without preamble and also brought his mother to her feet in one felt swoop.  Narrowing his eyes at her, he placed both hands on her shoulders and sighed. “You love her.”

“Henry.”

“You love my mom and you're scared, I get it. If I had the crap luck you've had I would be scared too. I read the stories and I also know how to read between the lines. I’ve asked Gram enough vague questions to fill in the blanks.  But Emma’s not scary mom.  Emma’s awesome. Emma is noble and kind and,” he closed his eyes briefly and sighed, “You deserve this.  Both of you do.”

“It’s not that simple, Henry. Oh, how I wish it were all that simple. Anything that has happened to me has most certainly been my own doing. It's about choices.”

“But it is, mom, don't you see? It _is_ that simple.” Removing his hands from her shoulders, he made a sweeping gesture with them around the room.  “Choices? Look at the choices Emma made. Look at the awesome kitchen stuff she bought when, seriously? Don't let her kid you, she can burn a pot of water if given half the chance. She stayed, mom. Every day she's in my life, in our lives, she makes that _choice_ to stay every morning when she gets up. Fine, you made some bad choices and you paid for them. That doesn't mean you have to pay for them the rest of your life. That doesn't mean you don't get to make _better_ choices.  Don't you see? You still have a _choice_. That's more than you ever had before. Isn't it?”

Regina was stunned. Regina was stunned and shocked and amazed and … how on earth did her son become so wise? So knowing? So sure? “Henry…”

“You love her, mom, but it's still your choice whether you let her know or not.” He shrugged. “It's still your choice to be happy or…” quietly he slipped off to his room.

. . . . . . . .

Or?

That word bounced around Regina’s brain for quite some time. It did battle with other words in her head as she loaded the dishwasher of their morning breakfast plates.

Or.

Want.

Love.

Choice.

_All you have to do is say so._

As quietly as she could, Regina made her way to the screened door separating the porch and the living space. Peering out, she saw Emma with her bare feet tucked under her legs, hands still clutching the probably-gone-cold cup of coffee and eyes closed against the sun shining directly in her face. The light hit her so perfectly and just _so_ \- that there was a slight halo around the curls that fell out from the messy ponytail she’d pulled back at some point. She looked exhausted and worn and so undeniably…

“I can feel you, you know.” Without opening her eyes, Emma smiled just slightly before dipping her head down and taking a sip of definitely cold coffee, her grimace as the liquid touched her lips spoke volumes. “I guess it's a drawback of the whole heart magic thing. I can _feel_ you there even though you didn't make a sound.  Believe me, I was listening.”

The screen door protested slightly as it was pushed open and it made a dull thwack as it fit back into place.

Regina glided on bare feet across the hardwood floor of the porch and finally came to settle in the seat next to the blonde.

Moments passed. One. Then two. Then who knows how many minutes stretched on in silence. And you would think it was awkward. You'd think it would fray your nerves and set the hairs on your neck on end; all of that silence, but it didn't.

Finally.

Softly.

“So.” Regina whispered. It came out as if it was a breath on the exhale; a soft and impossibly hard to miss offering to any set of ears attuned enough to hear it.

Emma turned her head slightly, finally, and exhaled herself. “What?”

“So.” Regina stated clearer. Surer of this word than any other word that had ever crossed her lips in all of her years in this realm, or any other.

“Regina, I don't…”

“I’m saying so, Miss Swan.  Must I repeat myself again?” Rolling her eyes at herself and the fact that Emma probably had no good idea what she meant, she steeled herself against her own heart that was threatening to beat wildly out of her chest at any moment. “You told me all I had to do was say so.”  She turned herself fully now and faced a very confused but also hopeful looking blonde Savior.  “I - I want it, Emma. I want to make a _choice_ \- and you have given that to me. You gave me a choice and I - I want to take it, so I’m saying ..”

“So…” one side of the blonde’s mouth curled up slightly in amusement at the exasperated and definitely _cute_ and most certainly convoluted way the Mayor was making her intentions known.

Regina rolled her eyes. Again. “ _Emma_.”

“What?” The other side of her mouth lifted and suddenly the savior had a full blown smile plastered on her face.

“You could be less - _smug_ about it. You do realize that, correct?”

Unfolding from herself and feet firmly on the ground, Emma scooted a little closer to a mildly irritated Mayor. Deliberately, she reached out and tucked a few stray hairs behind and ear, with mischief dancing in her eyes.  “I could be less smug about what, Regina?”

The air between them shifted. Regina regarded the woman before her. The infuriating, overconfident and insanely attractive woman who had captured parts of her that no one had ever even seen before - never mind touched and understood and accepted. “ _Emma_.” She said again in that exasperated and _so done with your shit_ tone of voice that made the Savior smile even broader if that was at all possible.

Glancing down at full lips then up to amber flecked orbs, the blonde whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now. Again.”

“Is that so?” Regina’s eyes crinkled with delight. The things this woman did to her with just words alone …

“Yeah. Ok?”

Regina nodded and before their lips touched she whispered, “Definitely ok.”


End file.
